She Was A Hero
by ChandelierKnight
Summary: Harry Potter isn't the only Potter child. He's not the only Potter child with a prophecy either. This is the story of the younger sibling of "The Boy Who Lived". A story of her life, her love, and her legacy.
1. Prologue War Heroes

His mother stood at the front of the lecture-style class room trying to look the part of a strict, no-nonsense tolerating teacher. He was sure that she pulled it off, and that she had the rest of the class convinced she was one of the professors that they shouldn't dare to ever cross. She was the picture of serene confidence. He, however, knew better. The nervousness she felt was obvious to him; he felt it as if it were his own. Desire to impress all those who doubted that she should be appointed to this post was evident in her eyes. Her sheer determination to succeed and do her job better than any before her was clear in the stance she took. All of these things seemed unmistakably apparent to him, for his mother was an open book to him. They had a bond that even he would admit was unusually strong for a mother and son. She was more than his mother. She was his savior, his mentor, his closest confidant. She was his hero. Unlike most boys his age he was proud of the relationship he shared with his mother. They had been through so much together, and their close-knit family unit was a product of the struggles they had all faced together. Because, really, what else could anyone expect a family to be like after they had been to war together?

As close as he and his mother were, they were almost as different as they could get. He maintained a calm and closed-off demeanor, whereas his mother always seemed warm and welcoming; though maybe he was biased, her being his mother and all. She had a quick wit and a penchant for sticking her opinion wherever she felt the need. While he had the potential to be just as intelligent, he would wait to be addressed before offering any input. His mother insisted he obtained his reserved and quite nature from having been raised for the first few years of his life within the aftermath of the biggest war their world had ever fought, and it had been constantly stressed to him by his father that he needed to be unnoticed – it was vital to their survival. His father often told him that it was his mother's loud mouth that got her into a heap of unnecessary sticky situations during the war.

His mother was very well known, being one of the major players in the war. He often heard his playmate's parents mention her name in reverent tones whenever she happened to be brought up, and he was observant enough to notice how his family was treated in comparison to those of his friends. His mother and father, along with his aunts and uncles, had been placed upon a pedestal and were treated as celebrities or royalty.

The bell tolled out over the grounds signaling the beginning of the first period of the day and jolted him from his thoughts. His mother's piercing emerald eyes scanned the class, spending just a second longer on him than the rest of the students. She smiled and pulled her deep red hair into a high pony tail, like she did whenever she got serious and needed to focus, and tried to brush her always uncooperative bangs out of her eyes. Once she and the students that had been a bit late to class were settled she pointed her wand at the board, upon which the words "History of Magic" appeared.

He wondered again, for probably the millionth time, why his mother had wanted the job of History of Magic professor. He would have bet his allowance for a year that she would have gone after the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, her having been defending against the dark arts during the Second Wizard War and all. When he had asked her about this she had told him that the Defense Against the Dark Arts post was currently held by an extremely competent wizard who happened to be a very close friend of the family and as involved in the war as the rest of the famed Dumbledore's Army. She also insisted multiple times that when he got to his class he set a good example for the rest of the students by being kind and paying Professor Longbottom the proper respect that he deserved. He also suspected, even though she had never said this, that she wanted the Hogwarts students to be taught the history of the First and Second Wizard Wars by someone who had been there and understood, and not Professor Bins, since the ghost didn't seem to have a clue as to what had occurred and had in the years following the war continued to drone on unnecessarily about the Giant Wars. When, in his mother's words, "children needed to be educated about what their world has gone through so they can attempt to understand the severity of uncalled for prejudices and the ramifications of war upon its victims."

He was pulled from his inner musings once again, though this time by his mother's voice as she began to introduce the class to her students.

"Good morning students. Welcome to your first year of History of Magic. I hope you all found your ways alright. I would like to suggest to those of you that came in late that you may want to leave your dormitories a tad bit earlier, for if you haven't noticed the staircases like to move and if you're caught on one during a switch you'll have to find a different route to take to get to your classes. I would also like to tell you to mind the portraits, as some of them are filthy little lairs and if you ask them to point you in the right direction they will probably give you directions to the third floor, which is forbidden, or to the kitchens, which you won't get out of until you've accepted a rather alarming amount of food from the house elves. I would also like to offer my condolences to you all. I will never understand why they insist on grouping Gryffindors and Slytherins together, as everyone is aware of the two houses' inability to get along well. However, I will not tolerate house tensions disrupting the class, so you'll all just have to suck it up."

She stopped to survey the class again to see if anyone looked horridly confused or frightened. He was proud of his mother, she seemed to have everyone's attention and she now looked more at ease. They shared a brief glance and supportive look, meant for both of them to gain comfort out of, before she continued.

"As it is your first year we have a lot to begin covering. We're going to start with the history of Hogwarts itself and its founders," she paused to take in the class again before continuing, "I see some of you aren't taking notes. However, it will be vital that you do so. Quills and parchment out please."

The boy sitting behind him, a fellow Slytherin, raised his hand to ask a question, "Weren't you involved in the resistance during the Second Wizarding War?"

The boy beside him turned to him and asked, "She is a war hero. I heard she was a member of Dumbledore's Army. This is going to be so cool. We have two professors that were in it. I hope they tell us awesome war stories!"

He heard the girl in front of him, a Gryffindor, say, "She was in our house! I hear people talk about what she did all the time. She was amazing! She's so lucky to have been involved in the war. I can't wait to hear about it from her."

The boy on the other side of him, his cousin Art Weasley who was in Gryffindor, turned to him his voice dripping with mockery and exclaimed, "Oh, Merlin! I heard her brother was The Boy Who Lived! The Chosen One! So exciting. Never met him personally, though I hear he's rather fetching. And the scar! Can you imagine how tough and intimidating it makes him look?"

He almost lost it. Art took after his father way too much for his own good. He replied to his cousin, "Watch it or she'll send an owl to Uncle Fred."

"He'll be proud," Art scoffed in response.

They noticed that the classroom around them had gone quiet and turned to find the professor staring at them with her head cocked to the side and a hand on her hip.

"Uh-oh," Art leaned over and whispered, "You know that look better than I do."

"Art, do you have something to share?" she asked the boy.

"Not at all, Auntie Elle," Art drawled, giving her puppy eyes for good measure.

She turned her eyes on her son and quirked her eyebrow at him. He responded before she even addressed him, saying, "No. No need to owl Father. Sorry."

Having quieted her son and nephew she turned back to the class at large, saying, "It seems as though some of you have heard of me. I'm going to give you the opportunity to ask some questions now in hopes that tomorrow this will not affect your concentration in class."

A Slytherin who was seated down the row from him raised his hand and asked, "Is it true then? You're the war hero?"

His mother regarded the boy with an almost annoyed expression, which had the Slytherin wishing he had left the question asking to someone else. Eventually her expression softened and she replied, "I do not like to think of myself as a war hero. This to me makes it sound like something it was not. The Second Wizarding War is not something our world should be proud of. It was a dark time. It was a time of confusion, and desperation. During which the fate of the world was thrust upon the shoulders of children, students not unlike yourselves. Yes, I was one of these children. But I want you to understand that I, nor none of the people who were at my side, were in this war for fame. We found no glory in it then and we find none in it now.

"My story is not very well known. I made sure to keep it very close to my heart, and I do not like to often go back and rehash the details. I was no hero. I was scared, and at times I was alone. I was always worried that one day I would wake up and my older brother, the hope of the Wizarding world, would be dead. I was terrified, because my destiny was not intertwined very closely with his. I was not meant to track down Voldemort alongside him. I was meant to protect everyone else, to offer myself up as the armor of the rest of the world. I was expected to give my life at a moment's notice to keep this school a safe place.

"I made mistakes. I was captured. There were many times when I contemplated giving up. My story, in my opinion, isn't one of glory. I should not be idolized. I did things I'm not proud of. I employed curses that you will learn are unforgivable. I was young, way too young, to have others depending on me for sanctuary.

"I did the best that I could, and just hoped that it was enough. We didn't have a grand plan. A lot of members of our group were in different locations, unable to contact one another out of fear of being found by the enemy. It was a war of luck and determination, where we just kind of had to wing it and hope it turned out in our favor."

His mother hated talking about her personal part of the war. That was obvious to all those seated in the classroom. He was one of the few who knew the details of her story, and he couldn't have disagreed with her more. She was his uncle's hero. She was their family's hero. She was her husband's hero.

The faces of his classmates looked up at their professor and just from that short, vague speech even they could see it. They could see what the rest of the world saw, but their professor failed to admit to. She was a hero.

* * *

**As of 1/20/12 I am going back to make some much needed corrections and edits. Nothing changes the plot line or previous understanding of the story. In order to continue from where I am currently at in the writing process I feel like this is crucial for me. And a story can never be gone over too many times, right? If this alerts my current readers I hope you're happy to know I am back to working fervently on this project for you all, because I love you =), and to any newcomers, which I've had quite a few of recently, welcome, welcome! As always let me know what you think, if you have anything new to add! **


	2. Life at Number 4

"Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Home sweet home," said a thin boy with black hair.

The red-head sitting in a lawn chair across from him scoffed and looked over at the boy. He was her brother, older by one year. She didn't think his comment needed a response, she knew he was being sarcastic and he knew she hated Number 4 just as much as he did.

Instead of talking to the boy she studied his appearance, though she could have described him in detail with her eyes closed. He was taller than her, though that wasn't saying very much since she'd only grown to be 5' 2". His mop of black hair was in its normal state of disarray – they had this in common, the uncooperative hair, though hers had become slightly more manageable now that it was longer, excluding the bangs that went across her forehead that she was constantly trying to keep out of her eyes. His eyes were the exact same shade of green as hers. There was really only one thing that suggested that he was not just an average almost sixteen-year-old boy; the lightning-shaped scar in the center of his forehead.

He had received this scar the night that their parents had been murdered. It was the result of the darkest wizard in history trying to kill him, for there was a prophecy stating that her older brother was the only one with the power to end the 'Dark Lord', Voldemort. The only reason they had survived that night is because their mother had given her life in an attempt to protect her brother, shielding him with her body.

She continued to study the scar, thinking about what it symbolized to her and her brother. To them it was a constant reminder that they were orphans, unwanted by the only family they had left – the family that currently begrudgingly housed them at Number 4 for the summer holidays. It never let them forget that they wouldn't be able to live the lives typical for people their age. They both resented it. It was the symbol of their destinies.

Most of the population of the Wizarding world thought that the lightning bolt scar, along with the boy who carried it, were symbols of hope. They looked to her brother for salvation from the war that "You-Know-Who" waged upon those he deemed unworthy of magic. They had heard of the prophecy that named her brother as the only wizard that could kill Voldemort and that's all they saw of "The Boy Who Lived". They didn't see him as he was, a scared and unsure teenage boy with the world thrust upon his shoulders. They didn't think twice about encroaching upon his privacy and constantly writing about him in newspapers, like the _Daily Prophet_. When they thought he had made a mistake they didn't hesitate to incriminate him in the same paper they had used to praise "The Chosen One" in the day before. No one gave a single thought to letting him be, so that he could learn and grow in peace, so that one day he'd be able to save their world.

"Elle," he said, startling her.

"Harry?" she finally responded to him.

"What's wrong?" he questioned. He wasn't used to seeing his normally obnoxiously bubbly little sister sit in silence for so long. He was extremely worried about the toll the upcoming war would take upon the young girl.

"Nothing," she told him, "Just thinking."

"That's never good," he joked.

She looked at him, and for a moment he was terrified of what he saw in her eyes. Swirling inside the brilliant green irises he saw all of his emotions reflected back at him; despair, hope, determination, confusion, love. He had tried so hard to convince Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and leader of the resistance against Voldemort, not to involve his sister in the war. If Harry had gotten his way she would have already been hidden away in the safest place Dumbledore could find, but he had not been able to make the headmaster bend to his will. He could still feel the anger and sadness just as he had during his conversation with the professor at the end of their last school year.

His mind wondered off, thinking back to what Dumbledore had told him, "Harry, I know you just want to protect your sister, but there are things you need to understand about Elle that I haven't confided in you yet."

"What do you mean, professor? What is there to know about Elle that I wouldn't already know?" Harry had asked, extremely perplexed by the idea that Dumbledore knew something about his sister that was, as of yet, unbeknownst to him.

Dumbledore had studied Harry's face for several minutes before giving a resigned sigh and saying, "There are some things that are beyond even my power to control, Mr. Potter. You must understand this. You are not the only Potter child to have been born with a prophecy."

Harry looked at the old man in wonder. His sister was born with a prophecy? He couldn't seem to wrap his head around the idea.

"Professor… I'm sorry. I just don't understand," Harry whispered.

"Please, Harry, do not despair. Elle's prophecy is not nearly as condemning as yours, and it speaks nothing of her death," the headmaster had told him.

"But then what does it say?"

The older man regarded the younger with a reluctant expression before answering, "I am sorry, Harry, but I have given my word to your sister not to speak of it with you for the time being."

Harry felt his anger begin to bubble. He didn't like being out of the loop, especially if Elle was involved – it went against all of his instincts that urged him to protect his baby sister.

"You mean to tell me that she already knows?" Harry demanded.

"Elle has known since the second night she was in this castle, Harry. I have been tutoring her since her first year. You can remember her telling you of her private lessons with me, can you not?"

"Yes, sir. But I never thought there was a reason for them beyond the fact that she was gifted more than normal."

"I beg you to trust that when the time is right I will encourage Elle to divulge her prophecy to you."

"I guess that's all I can really do. It's not like I'll be able to convince Elle to tell me herself, if she has her mind set against it," Harry muttered dejectedly, his worry for his younger sibling not dampened in the slightest.

"She is really quite stubborn, isn't she?" Dumbledore had chuckled.

Harry continued to look at his sister. She was an exceptional witch, as smart as his best friend, Hermione Granger. Elle had a prowess for magic that even the teachers marveled at. She had been summoning magic since she was a toddler, of course Harry hadn't recognized it then, but now he could reason away all the strange things that had happened around her easily. His sister was the top of her class at Hogwarts, and he had heard whisperings, in the hallways of the school and whenever they had wondered amongst large numbers of wizards that Elle was the most powerful witch ever born.

"Haaarrrryyyy," he finally heard Elle's whining, "Why are you ignoring me?" the young girl pouted.

"I wasn't, Ellie," he tried to placate her, "Just didn't hear you."

"Sure. But whatever," she brushed off her brother's spacey-ness, "As I was saying, has the _Prophet_ reported anything interesting lately?"

"Not unless you count Lucius Malfoy petitioning the Wizengamont to relocate the giants so they have more living space," Harry rolled his eyes at the thought of Lucius Malfoy caring about the rights or wellbeing of anyone but "Pure-blood" wizards.

"Yeah, right," Elle said sarcastically, "And the next thing we know Bellatrix Lestrange will come galloping into our back yard on a centaur and tell us we need to play nicely with all the local Muggle children or else she'll put us in time-out."

"I don't know what would be more believable; a Malfoy caring about something other than itself or Bellatrix riding a centaur," Harry mused before stating, "He's trying to recruit them for Voldemort."

"And apparently good ol' Voldy would like them a bit closer to home. Too close for comfort, in my opinion."

Lucius Malfoy and his sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange, were among Voldemort's most loyal followers, who were known as Death Eaters. Voldemort and his Death Eaters definitely weren't interested in getting more living space for the giants. They didn't care about anything that they didn't consider to be of "pure blood". This is why they were trying to take over the Wizarding World; they wanted to purge it of "Mudbloods". Mudblood was a word they used to describe wizards and witches of non-magical birth.

"Ellvi," Harry addressed his sister, using the nick name he had given her when they were younger. It was a combination of her first name and her middle name, Violet.

Elle turned a suspicious eye on her brother. He rarely ever called her Ellvi any more, unless he wanted something or when she was crying.

"What do you want?" she accused him.

"Nothing. Merlin, you're sensitive," Harry told her.

"And you're mental if you think I don't know what you're up to. Just tell me what you want."

"What does your prophecy say?" Harry questioned quietly.

Elle eyed her brother, clearly annoyed by his pestering, and replied, "That one day I'll turn my nosey older brother into a frog, and dub him The-Boy-Who-Croaked."

"You sure are the nicest kid sister a bloke could ever dream of," Harry muttered.

Elle giggled and stuck her tongue out at him, jumping from her chair and dashing into the house to escape Harry before he had the chance to tackle her to the ground. Harry launched himself from his chair as soon as he realized what she was doing and chased her into the house. He caught up to her in the kitchen, where she had been deterred from her flight by their very flustered looking aunt, Petunia.

"What are you doing, girl?" their aunt shrieked.

"I was just going upstairs to our room," Elle replied, not understanding why her aunt was pitching a fit.

"Look what you've done! My floor! It's covered in dirt." Aunt Petunia continued to yell.

"She didn't mean it," Harry tried to stick up for his sister.

"Didn't mean it? I don't care if she meant it. My floor is ruined!" Their aunt just kept getting louder.

"Petunia, what's the fuss?" Their Uncle Vernon asked, walking into the room.

"She got dirt all over the floor I just cleaned!" His wife answered him, thrusting a finger at Elle.

"Then she'll clean it for you," Uncle Vernon said, glaring at Elle, "All the floors in the house. Teach her a lesson, Petunia."

"I am not cleaning every floor in your stupid house," Elle shouted.

"Keep your voice down, girl! And you have no choice but to do as I say!"

"Or what?" Elle challenged.

"I'll put both you and your precious bother out on the streets!" Uncle Vernon threatened.

"Vernon…" Aunt Petunia started before she was interrupted by Harry.

"That's an empty threat," Harry said. "You have no choice but to keep us here. Or Dumbledore will be right mad, and he'll come himself to make sure you remember the agreement you made with him."

"We'll see about that, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his face an ugly shade of purple.

"Keep your voice down, you don't want the neighbors to hear," Elle quipped, in a tone that mocked their Aunt Petunia quite well.

The next thing they knew Aunt Petunia was shoving a bucket and rag into their hands, saying, "Just clean the kitchen floor, or no supper for either of you."

A half-hour later Elle was kneeling on the kitchen floor scrubbing at nonexistent dirt, muttering to herself about "wretched aunts" and "walrus-like uncles" when she heard a knock at the door. Harry, who was helping her scrub, looked up at her and they exchanged a quizzical look. No one ever knocked on the Dursley's door except their cousin's friends, and Dudley was currently out. This made the Potter siblings very curious as to who was at the door.

Uncle Vernon came waddling into the hallway from the living room to answer the door, as the person on the other side became impatient and began to knock louder. As soon as Uncle Vernon had opened the door wide enough the two visitors slipped by him without waiting to be invited in, for they knew the invitation would never come.

"Uncle Remus! Mrs. Weasley!" Elle exclaimed in pure delight, jumping up from her spot on the kitchen floor and rushing over to give them both hugs.

Harry made his way over to them as well, a large smile on his face. Remus Lupin was Elle's godfather, which was why she had taken to calling him 'uncle'. Mrs. Weasley was Harry's best friend, Ron's, mother. Harry and Elle hadn't expected to see them until they left the Dursley's to spend the last couple weeks of summer holiday at the Burrow, which is what the Weasley's called their house.

"Let's go into the living room and have a chat shall we?" Lupin asked the room at large, motioning for the siblings and Mr. Dursley to show him the way.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Dursley demanded. His face was already an unnatural color and the vein in his forehead looked ready to burst.

"Oh, children!" Mrs. Weasley cooed at the Potters, "You both look absolutely starved. Don't they feed you enough?"

"As a matter of fact, not really," Elle said from her position on the couch in between Lupin and Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley rounded on Mrs. Dursley and scolded her as if she were a misbehaving child, "I cannot believe you are still mistreating these children! It's horrid. You should be ashamed of yourself!"  
Mrs. Dursley tried to respond, but couldn't think of any way to defend herself, so Vernon interjected on her behalf, "What we do with them while they're here is none of your damn business, and we can punish them however we see fit if they're living under our roof!"

Mrs. Weasley glared at him, but was unable to continue the argument because Lupin had begun to address the Dursleys, "We're here to discuss the remainder of Harry and Elle's stay with you," Lupin stated.

"It has come to our knowledge that you do not want the children here any longer. But we must insist that they stay until the day that Dumbledore has scheduled," Lupin continued, "We also would like to request that they are treated with a bit more kindness, so that the next time we come they won't be scrubbing the floor on their hands and knees."

It was a rare sight to see Remus Lupin truly angry, but when you did you could almost see a hint of the werewolf lurking inside him, within his eyes and in the shape of his mouth. As Lupin sat across from Vernon Dursley he was, for the first time in his life, glad that he could use these normally disturbing, unwanted characteristics to intimidate that man before him.

"Do you understand me?" Lupin asked.

Mrs. Dursley put a hand on her husband's arm to silence anything he was about to say and instead responded for him, "Yes, we do."

"Glad that's settled," Molly Weasley stated turning back to Harry and Elle.

"So, you're not here to get us?" Harry asked, already sensing the answer.

"Unfortunately not," Mrs. Weasly said patting him on the head.

Elle turned to Lupin and clung to his arm, giving him the most pitiful look she could muster before saying, "Please, take me with you. Save me. It's dreadful here. If I stay another day I'll die."

Lupin detached his god daughter from his arm and pulled her into another hug, reassuring her that it wouldn't be too much longer before someone would be back to pick them up.

"When will we be leaving?" Harry asked the two adults.

"Dumbledore told us not to say, just in case there are unfriendly ears lurking about," Lupin told him.

"We must be going," Mrs. Weasly said. "We were told to be as quick as possible."

"We'll be seeing you again before you know it," Lupin said as both he and Mrs. Weasley turned on the spot and vanished.

Elle, though unhappy about being left behind, looked at Uncle Vernon with a sweet smile that was blatantly fake and said, "Well, now that that's settled, and you can't get rid of us or keep meals from us you can clean your own filthy floors."

Harry chuckled at his sister and followed her back into the kitchen to get something to eat. Both Potter siblings were in much better moods now and they went back to their normal routine of ignoring the Dursleys. The Dursleys went back to pretending Harry and Elle didn't exist.

* * *

**Fun fact: Elle never lived in the cupboard under the stairs. **


	3. An Ancestry of Magnificence

It was several weeks later when Harry and Elle were awoken by what sounded like a stampede in the hallway outside their room. Rolling over Elle looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was 9 in the morning and she was upset at having been roused from sleep so early. Then the Potter siblings noticed that the stampede, that they were sure had been caused by Dudley and his friends, had come to a halt outside their door.

"Ugh," Harry groaned. He was sure that any minute Dudley would burst through their door to partake in his favorite past-time, trying to humiliate Harry and Elle. This very rarely went well for Dudley, his being so dim and all.

Just as Harry had predicted Dudley and his gang of friends burst into their room without so much as a knock, stupid looks cemented to each of their progressively ugly faces. Elle sat up in her bed and glared at the group of unwanted visitors. It seemed as though she was attempting to will them away. With a look of disgust she turned away from her cousin and went about trying to find a jumper to put on over her sleep tank top.

"You two better pay attention to me," Dudley demanded when it appeared like both siblings were going to ignore him.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Dudders?" Elle questioned him, an uninterested look on her face.

"You better watch how you talk to me," Dudley ordered.

"We all know there's nothing you can do to make us do what you say, Dudley. Just shove off," Harry told the boy.

"Mum and Dad say you're both to stay in this room all day because we're having guests," Dudley informed them.

"Will do, Diddykins," Elle said.

"You little…" Dudley started before being interrupted by Harry.

"Keep your mouth shut," Harry snapped.

Dudley glared at the pair of teenagers opposite him with a flustered look. He didn't like for them to get the best of him when his friends were around to see it happen. However, instead of continuing the argument he turned and shoved his friends out of the room and slammed the door after they'd all exited.

Elle flopped back down onto her bed and stared at the celling. Harry looked over at her and sighed. She hated being stuck in the same room all day, and she'd grow bored with it before their aunt and uncle's friends had even arrived.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Elle asked her brother.

"I'm going to work on completing my summer homework, I guess," Harry told her.

"I've already got mine done," Elle sighed.

"Of course you do," Harry snickered at her. Elle didn't enjoy her homework the way their friend Hermione did, but it was so easy for her she got all of it done within the first few weeks of the holiday. "Just read something. Dumbledore gives you books all the time, you can't have read all of them yet.

"I've read all but one," Elle stated. "And the only one I've left is _Purebloods through the Ages: An Ancestry of Magnificence_." Elle pantomimed gagging at the thought of reading the book. She held little interest in reading a bunch of articles written by pompous wizards who she considered to be delusional.

"Why does Dumbledore want you to read that?" Harry asked.

"He said something about learning to understand my enemy," Elle said. She seemed bored at the prospect of learning about the thoughts of those who followed Voldemort.

"And what good is that supposed to do?" Harry seemed utterly aghast at the thought that understanding the snobby opinions of 'purebloods' would do her any good at all.

"I think it's supposed to help me understand their thinking patterns more so than their actual opinions," Elle explained. She noticed that Harry was still staring at her, unconvinced that the book would help her in any way.

"Example," Elle began, the way she always did when she had to explain something to her older brother. "If I were to duel you it would be advantageous to me if I could understand the way you think. If I understood that about you it may make it easier for me to find your weakness and gain the upper hand. You see, because I know that you generally avoid any spells that would cause someone physical harm I will expect you to try to stun or disarm me, or maybe immobilize me. I also know that above all else, you will not perform any of the unforgivable curses. Because I know these things about you beforehand if we were to ever come to battle I would already have prepared a list of spells that could overcome the ones you favor, and I will be confident in the fact that I can do almost anything to you before you would try to kill me."

"So, Dumbledore wants you to know how to gage which tactics the Death Eaters may employ, based solely upon a book?" To Harry this didn't seem like a fool proof plan to gaining an advantage.

"No, he wants me to know how to push their buttons, and know their breaking points. He thinks it's important for me to know how they think of themselves, because a person's self-concept has an impact on their fighting style as well as their magical ability. He probably thinks that if I study this book it will aide me in picking up on the characteristics of any future Death Eaters I may cross, he thinks from reading it I'll be able identify weak points in their offense and defense like I can with people I know well – like I can with you, or say Luna and Ginny."

"It seems like Dumbledore is putting a whole lot of pressure on you," Harry stated, not liking the idea of his sister spending her free time working on her war tactics.

Elle sighed, and contemplated ignoring Harry completely. She was fed up with him breathing down her back and trying to hide the war from her.

"Harry," she began, locking gazes with the older boy, "I know you're concerned about me being involved in the upcoming war, but you need to accept it. I've been training with Dumbledore for years; I'm completely capable of handling myself. Trying to keep me from helping isn't going to do anyone any good. I'm going to have a part to play in this mess no matter what you or I want."

"You're fourteen," Harry said miserably. It was the only argument he had. He knew his sister was four times the witch anyone could ever dream of being, but to him that didn't make it alright for a fourteen-year-old girl to join war efforts. Even if she came out of the war physically unharmed he was sure there would be other ramifications. He was worried about the things she'd see, the things she'd have to do. His biggest concern was that she'd be haunted for the rest of her life by images of her friends being tortured and dying, and by memories of the things she herself would have to do.

"And you're fifteen," Elle stated. "It doesn't matter how old we are anymore. No one is ever going to be truly ready to face this."

For the first time in Harry's life he watched his confident, bubbly, 'my glass is always completely full' sister falter and fumble to find words. Finally she seemed to regain some of her normal composure as she said, "I know, Harry, I know I'll probably see some of the most important people in my life die. I'll see people being tortured. But, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to save our world. If we don't try, Harry, what will we do? Voldemort will never stop hunting you, and we can't separate forever. No matter what you try and do to shield me from this war it will follow me as well, Voldemort will try and use me to get to you. You know that. We have to face our destiny, Harry. And we should face it together, with our friends."

Harry looked away from her. He knew she was right, she normally was. He sighed, resigned to going to war with his younger sister. "You're right," he told her, and then pulled out his transfiguration homework and promptly ignored their conversation and the war that was looming in the distance, like storm clouds upon a horizon that look further away than they really are, inching ever closer.

It was some hours later when Elle looked up from her book and giggled. "What?" Harry asked her. He never imaged she'd find anything amusing in the book about pureblood ancestry she was reading, though it had been slightly amusing for him to listen to her mutter under her breath all day about 'arrogant, delusional, nitwits.'

"I've gotten to the part about the Malfoys," She managed to get out before breaking into another fit of uncontrollable giggles. Harry waited for her to calm down before prompting her to continue with a wave of his hand. "It says in here that it's common for purebloods to have complications with their genes because of all the inbreeding," here she giggled again; "You know mutations and stuff? Well it says that since the Malfoys are one of the oldest pureblood families these mutations happen much more often to them, because they just keep marrying their own family members. It says it's why they've all got that whitish hair, only in here it boasts about it saying their hair color is 'as pure as their blood.' Completely delusional," she snorted.

"I just keep picturing Draco marrying his cousin. Like, could you imagine me having to marry Dudley? And the hair, pure as their blood. I'll admit Draco doesn't look inbred, but there are pictures of all of his ancestors in here," She could barely contain herself now and all Harry could understand out of the rest of what she was trying to tell him was, "bleeding gargoyles" and "more mad-eyed than Moody."

Wanting to know what she found so hysterical Harry crossed their small room and shoved his still laughing sister over and sat down on her bed beside her, pulling the book from her hands. Flipping back a few pages to the beginning of the Malfoy's section in the book he started looking at the pictures. Most of the people pictured did have the same whitish hair as Draco, however, even Harry had to admit that in comparison to some of the people pictured in this book Draco was a good looking bloke.

Some of the Malfoys that had married too closely into their relatives had produced children that did resemble gargoyles; there were even some that had married straight back into the Malfoy bloodline that had children that were disfigured. The most common disfigurement seemed to be crossed eyes.

Harry laughed with his sister for several minutes before asking, "So why do you think Draco turned out to look so normal?"

"I think it's because Lucius married a Black. They're fairly distant as far as I can tell from this book. I don't think a Malfoy had ever married a Black before," Elle explained.

"So the Ferret just got lucky?"

"Appears so."

"Bummer," Harry said. "It might've been nice to see him cross eyed."

"You know in here it says that he was rather rebellious as a child, constantly trying to run off and play with Muggle children and befriending the house-elves. It says that his father beat him a lot, which is common among pureblood families when a child questions their beliefs," Elle said. She looked a bit put out, as though reading that Malfoy had been beaten upset her.

"So what, Elle? He's a right awful git now," Harry said.

"Maybe it's not his fault?" Elle said, unsure herself whether the idea had any merit or not.

"Who cares? He's a prick now and that's all that matters."

"I guess you're right," Elle said, closing the book and shoving it carelessly into her trunk. She wasn't sure if she agreed with her brother or not. She couldn't actually remember Malfoy being mean directly towards her; she'd only ever seen that side of him when she was around Harry. After a few minutes of quiet thought she decided it really didn't matter, Harry was her older brother and Malfoy had made habit of being rude to him so she would trust her older brother's judgment.

Later that evening Elle was sitting crossed legged on the floor gazing intently out the window. She was hoping someone would arrive soon to take her and her brother to the Burrow. It had been weeks since they had heard from anyone, and she felt like the time for someone to come for them would be soon. Clinging to this hope was the only thing keeping her from going insane. Elle had long since grown bored sitting in her room at Number 4, and had taken to pretending she couldn't hear Harry whenever he had tried to address her, having become annoyed with him when he had once again began to pester her about her prophecy.

Her mind wondered to her pseudo-family at the Burrow. She missed Ginny, the youngest Weasley, who she shared a room with. She couldn't wait to be surrounded by all of the people that would be constantly bustling about the house, Fred and George in particular. Upon her first time at the Burrow, during the summer holidays before her first year at Hogwarts, the twins had taken to the younger girl rather fast. They spent hours with her, teaching her concepts behind some of their favorite spells and pulling pranks on Harry to entertain her. Fred and George had become her two of her closest friends and she was reluctant to return to Hogwarts without them this year.

As she sat thinking of the twins the sky she was watching continued to grow darker, and sooner than she could have hoped it was late enough that she was able lay down and attempt to put the dreadfully boring day behind her.

Elle had been asleep for only a few hours when a muffled 'pop' jolted her awake. In her half-awake state she launched herself from her bed and into her brother's, in the process kneeing him in the stomach and smashing his face into their shared bedside table. She maneuvered herself so that Harry was in between her and her bed.

"Harry," she whispered dramatically. "There's something hiding under my bed!"

"You've finally gone and lost your mind. Get out of my bed," Harry mumbled tugging on the girl in an attempt to get her out of his space.

"I haven't!" Elle insisted, latching onto Harry's headboard to anchor herself to his bed. "Go and have a look."

"No," Harry grumbled. "There's nothing there. You were probably dreaming."  
"I'm positive I heard something. Just go check," Elle implored her older brother, using her legs to shove him roughly out of the bed. Harry landed in a heap on the floor. Elle's nervousness didn't inhibit her from seizing this opportunity to point and laugh at her brother's predicament.

"What happened to your Gryffindor courage?" Harry asked his little sister mockingly.

"It's on summer holiday, with my wand and other assorted magical abilities," Elle retorted, not in the least ashamed of having her older brother check under her bed.

Resigned to making a show of checking under the girl's bed in order to get her off his, Harry mumbled, "Probably just a mouse."

"Fabulous," Elle exclaimed. "I love having mice dropping strewn about my belongings."

Harry shot an annoyed glare at his sibling before leaning down to peer beneath her bed. What he came face to face with was the absolute last thing he had expected to find. Crouching inside the dark space Harry could see two large green eyes, currently misty with unshed tears.

The little being began to scuttle out of the crevice blurting breathless apologies, "Dobby is so very sorry, Harry Potter. He did not mean to cause a scare, he promises he didn't."

"It's okay, Dobby," Harry reassured the house-elf, dumbfounded as to why he was crawling out from underneath Elle's bed to begin with.

"Yeah, Dobby. No blood, no foul," Elle said, joining Harry and Dobby on the floor.

"Dobby didn't mean to apparate under Miss Elle's bed. He was just so excited to see his friends again," Dobby continued to apologize.

"It's okay, Dobby, really. We're excited to see you too," Elle told the house-elf sincerely.

"Miss Elle is always so kind to Dobby," the elf said teary-eyed again.

"So, Dobby, why are you here?" Harry asked.

"Dobby is here to fetch Miss Elle to the Burrow. Dobby was sent by Master Dumbledore, he was. Master Dumbledore trusted Dobby to bring Miss Elle safely all on his own, such an honor," Dobby practically wailed with happiness at the end on his sentence.

"Just me Dobby?" Elle questioned, confused. Harry and Elle were normally not separated for their trip to the Burrow.

"Yes, Miss. Dobby is to be taking just you," Dobby nodded frantically, his large bat-like ears flapping.

"What about me?" Harry questioned. He didn't want to be left at Number 4 without the company of his little sister.

"Master Dumbledore will be getting you tomorrow, he will," Dobby smiled up at Harry.

"Oh," Harry said. He was happy he wouldn't have to spend much time alone with the Dursleys. "Why are they getting us at different times, though?" Harry asked, as Elle went about the room chucking her scattered belongings into her trunk in preparation to leave.

"Dobby wasn't told," the elf looked down at his large feet. "Dobby was just asked to come get Miss Elle and tell Harry Potter to wait for Master Dumbledore to come for him tomorrow."

"That's great, Dobby," Harry told him before the elf had the chance to get upset thinking that he had displeased Harry. Dobby looked back up at him and grinned.

"Dobby is happy if Harry Potter is happy," he said.

"Alright Dobby," Elle said. "I'm ready when you are."

"Dobby is ready," the elf said with a smile. He trotted over to Elle and grabbed her hand.

"See you later, Harry," Elle told her brother.

"Sure thing, kid," Harry responded. "It was nice seeing you Dobby."

"The pleasure is all Dobby's," the house-elf insisted, then with a snap of his fingers Elle and Dobby were pulled through space and landed in the kitchen of the Burrow.

* * *

**Fun Fact: This was not the first book Elle has read that included information on Draco Malfoy that was given to her to read by one Albus Dumbledore. Fishy little sneak. What is he on about?**


	4. Birthdays at the Burrow

"Nice pajamas," Elle heard the voice of George Weasley, which seemed to be constantly laughing, say from behind her.

"Yes, adorable," she heard Fred Weasley agree. "What do you think those are, George? Bunnies?"

The twins laughed as Elle spun around and glared at them. "They're clouds!" She defended, pulling at the hem of the sleep shorts she was wearing. She crossed her arms across the matching blue tank top she had on before marching off in search of Mr. or Mrs. Weasley to inform them of her arrival.

The Weasley's living room looked the same as it had the last time she had seen it. There were two oversized couches and two plump arm chairs that formed a sort of semicircle around the fireplace. None of the fabrics of the furniture matched and the room gave off the general feel that it had been thrown together haphazardly, without thought. Elle loved the chaotic feel of this room, as well as most of the other rooms at the Burrow. She had spent countless hours in here with the Weasley children, along with Harry and Hermione, goofing off and talking.

Mrs. Weasly was currently seated in one of the giant arm chairs on the far side of the room immersed in a copy of _Witch Weekly_.

"Mrs. Weasly?" Elle said politely, letting the older woman know she was there.

"Oh, Elle, darling. You've finally arrived!" Mrs. Weasly said, getting up to hug Elle. "Did Dobby get you all right?"

"Of course," Elle said, looking around for the elf. "I think he's left back to the castle already though."

"Yes, yes. I'd image so. That's what Dumbledore told him to do," Molly explained.

"Do you know why Harry didn't come with me?" Elle asked.

"I don't know the specifics, dear. Dumbledore just told me that he'd be here tomorrow, hopefully before supper," Mrs. Weasley informed the young girl. "It's late, why don't you head up to your room and sleep the rest of the night? Ginny is already up there."  
"But…" Elle began to protest.

"Harry will be fine. No need to worry when we aren't expecting him until tomorrow. Off you go," Mrs. Weasly ushered her upstairs. "I think Fred and George have already brought your things up."

Elle was reluctant to go to bed not knowing the details of her brother's detainment at Number 4, but gave in to an adamant looking Mrs. Weasly. She headed upstairs to the room she shared with Ginny and was glad to see that the side of the room that they had set aside for her was kept the way she had left it. Her room at the Burrow was what she had always wanted growing up at the Dursley's, but had never been able to have.

Mrs. Weasly had let Elle and Ginny redecorate last summer to give the two girls something to do. They had painted all four walls of the room a different color. The wall that the headboards of their beds were against was painted a deep purple, the wall opposite it was a bright orange. The wall that held the door was a dusky shade of pink, and the wall across from it that had the only window was a shocking yellow. Mrs. Weasley hadn't been too keen on the multiple colors that the girls had chosen, but had relented eventually. The girls had picked the colors because they reminded them of a sunrise. The rest of the room was the home of many Gryffindor banners and posters. Hung on the wall opposite the beds was a collage of picture frames that displayed all their friends from Hogwarts and their family members.

She crawled under the quilt of bright fabrics that Mrs. Weasley had stitched for her after her first time at the Burrow and tried to will herself to sleep. It wasn't very easy, however. Thoughts were still swimming around inside her head about the brother she had left behind. It felt odd not having him within shouting distance as she had for the past four years. She was too used to his comforting presence for sleep to come easily.

Elle woke the next morning from a dream wherein Harry had been trying to leave her behind, telling her it was for her own good. She had chased him for hours, refusing to believe she could not go wherever he went. Every time she had him within reach he would disaparate, and she would have to search for him again. The dream had seemed endless and was excruciating. She was glad to see Ginny sitting up on the bed next to her as soon as she awoke.

"About time you got up," Ginny said with a sigh of impatience. "I've been up for hours. Mum won't serve breakfast without you. Everyone is starved."

Life was normal again, and Elle couldn't help but grin. "Let's go then," Elle said.

Ginny smiled and tossed her a jumper to throw on, "You left that here over Christmas holidays. I've been keeping it safe for you."

This translated loosely into, 'I've been wearing it every chance I got while you were away.' "Have you got anything on it?" Elle questioned with a knowing look at Ginny.

"Once, but Mum was able to get it out," Ginny said with a smile.

They arrived downstairs a few minutes later to find a grumpy Ron sitting at the kitchen table watching Fred and George harass a tired looking Mrs. Weasley.

"Why are you taking it out on us that Elle won't come eat?" George demanded.

"It's not our fault she sleeps like the dead," Ron added.

"We're growing boys!" Fred exclaimed, trying to snatch a piece of bacon while his mother wasn't looking.

"Shoo, get!" Mrs. Weasley tried to rid herself of the boys. "You know full well that we eat together."

"Yeah but when we sleep in you come in screeching like a banshee set on fire," George grumbled.

"You can all get your wands out of those knots now, she's up," Ginny said, taking the seat next to Ron.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Elle apologized, taking her normal seat across from Ginny between Fred and George.

"No need, dear," Mrs. Weasley assured her. With a wave of her wand she placed the food on the table before all of her children and sat down at the head of the table to share the meal with them.

Elle loaded her plate with food and soaked in the comfort of being involved in a family again. It was times like these with the Weasleys that she couldn't stop herself from thinking wistfully about what it may have been like for her and Harry had Voldemort never killed their parents. It was then that Elle's thoughts turned back to her missing brother and she began glaring at the spot where he normally sat beside Ron, remembering the Harry from her dream who had been trying direly to leave her behind.

Leaning over George whispered, "If you concentrate hard enough maybe he'll appear out of thin air right into that chair."  
"It's not outside the realm of possibilities when one lives in a world filled with magic," Elle deadpanned.

"You're not going to act like you've seen the Grimm all day are you?" Fred asked from the other side of her.

"Maybe," Elle snapped.

"Red-heads. Very feisty, you know," Fred stage whispered to George over her head.

"Yes, I've heard rumors," George responded in the same tone.

"Oh, come off it," Elle said, with a laugh. "What are we doing today?" She asked the rest gathered at the table.

"If you all wouldn't mind, I need the garden de-gnomed again so we can have Harry and Elle's birthday out there," Mrs. Weasley requested of the children.

After breakfast they trooped out into the garden and began to start preparing it for the celebrations that Mrs. Weasley would prepare in honor of Harry and Elle's birthdays.

"I thought you two were living above the shop now?" Elle asked the twins, referring to their joke shop in Diagon Alley.

"We are," George said, "We're just here for you and Harry's birthdays. Then we'll head back."

"Speaking of the shop," Fred said. "We could use a hand from you lot once Hogwarts students begin the before school rush to get their things."  
"Will you pay us?" Ron asked, looking like he wouldn't think twice about helping his brothers unless he got something out of it as well.

"Of course, Ronald," Fred said, feigning hurt feelings. "What do you think us? Slave drivers?"

"I'd love to," Elle said, relishing the thought of being out in the Wizarding world. Ginny nodded her acceptance as well.

"Always such an agreeable little lass, you are," George said ruffling her hair.

"Get off," Elle yelled; throwing the gnome she'd just caught at his face. He caught it at the last second and sent it flying over the hedge.

Once the garden was gnome-free Elle spent the rest of the day catching up with all of the Weasley children. Her mind was easily kept off of her brother by the antics of Fred and George, and the constant company of Ginny.

The only thing that broke up the normal routine of the Burrow was the appearance of Hermione Granger atop the hill behind the garden. She had been scheduled to be picked up from her Muggle home that day by Mr. Weasley.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione questioned as soon as she let Elle out of the hug she'd been giving her.

"Mrs. Weasley said he'd be here around dinner time," Elle said looking back at the hill, her thoughts wondering to her brother for the first time since breakfast. The sun was beginning its decent in the sky and Mrs. Weasley was bustling around in the kitchen preparing dinner. "He should be here soon."

Elle was sitting at the kitchen table not much later surrounded by Hermione and the Weasleys when they heard a loud _crack_ that was followed seconds later by a knock on the back door. Elle shot up from her seat and made to go to the door, but paused when Mr. Weasley also rose. Pulling his wand from inside his robes he motioned for Elle to accompany him to the door.

Standing behind Mr. Weasly as he opened the door blocked Elle's view of the people standing on the other side, since Mr. Weasley stood almost a foot taller than her. She stood on her toes in an attempt to see over his shoulder, but still came short. She settled for peering around his side with his body blocking all of her excluding her head.

Her heart soared at the sight of her brother, who had a slightly confused look on his face, and Albus Dumbledore, who looked quite pleased. As she made to move from behind Mr. Weasley his arm shot out to hold her in place as he raised his wand, pointing it at Dumbledore.

"What form does my patronus take?" Mr. Weasley questioned the headmaster.

"A weasel," Dumbledore answered, apparently correctly. Mr. Weasley then turned his wand on Harry.

Mr. Weasley couldn't seem to think of an adequate question to ask Harry so Elle stepped in asking, "What's my favorite nickname for Aunt Marge?"

"Largie Margie," Harry answered, snickering at the memory of the first time Elle had used the insulting nickname to Marge's face.

Mr. Weasley lowered his wand, saying, "Well then come in, come in."

Once they were inside Harry pulled Elle into a hug, saying, "Hey, kid," before turning to greet the rest of the people gathered in the kitchen. Elle, however, turned her eyes to the old wizard who was standing watching Mrs. Weasley pile a plate full of food and shove it at Harry. It seemed as though he sensed her scrutiny and lowered his eyes to meet hers.

"The sky was an extraordinary shade of green just before sunset," he said to her, his blue eyes seeming duller to Elle than usual.

"Awfully out of the ordinary," Elle stated cryptically, her gaze flicking to her headmaster's hand, which looked charred.

"I tend to find things that are unordinary are worthy of conversation," Dumbledore replied. "However there is a time and a place."

"And this isn't it," Elle nodded in understanding.

"Your brother was a great help to me," he told her.

"I'm glad," the young witch said. "Will you stay for dinner?"

"Thank you, dear child, but I must return to Hogwarts rather quickly," Dumbledore declined, smiling fondly at Elle. "I propose we resume our routine once you are back at school."

"Of course, Professor," Elle smiled.

Dumbledore turned to Mrs. Weasley who was approaching the pair and said, "I must beg my leave now, Molly. I have some business that needs attended to before the beginning of term."

"Thank you for dropping Harry off," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Not at all, Molly, it was my pleasure," he said. After a final fleeting glance at Elle he strode to the door and once outside turned on the spot and disappeared.

"So, Harry, what did you and Dumbledore do?" Elle asked after dinner once she and her brother, along with Hermione, Ginny and Ron were gathered in the room Harry and Ron shared.

"How do you always know?" Harry asked, gapping at his sister in wonder.

"Close your mouth before a wracksuprt flies in," Ron advised, laughing at his own joke.

"Wrackspurts enter through the ears, Ron," Elle stated seriously.

"You spend too much time with Loony, you do. You talk just like her sometimes," Ron told her.

"Don't call her 'Loony.' She's our friend," Ginny chastised Ron.

"Just because something is improbable does not mean it is impossible. I am sure there are many magical creatures that have not yet been discovered, and I will not have my mind closed off to the possibilities of them just because they are extraordinarily unorthodox," Elle said curtly.

Ron and Hermione stared at her with looks of incredulity, neither liked to put any stock into believing the seemingly outlandish ideas that Luna Lovegood spouted.

"You can't be saying you believe in the delusions that Luna is always going on about?" Hermione looked aghast.

"Dumbledore is always reminding me that it is those who underestimate others and do not look outside their comfort zones that are the truly misguided and delusional ones," Elle told Hermione, who sat staring at Elle as though she had just slapped her

"Harry?" Elle prompted to get the conversation back on track.

"He took me to see an old friend of his," Harry said.

"Who?" Elle questioned.

"Horace Slughorn," Harry explained. "He wanted me to help convince him to come back to teach at Hogwarts."

"So he'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore didn't really tell me much. I don't know if I liked him."

"I don't think he'll be teaching Defense," Elle said, her head cocked to the side. Her brow was furrowed in contemplation.

"Why not?" Harry asked. "What else would he teach?"

Elle shrugged, she didn't much care at the moment about the staffing arrangements Dumbledore was procuring for the next school year. She looked up at her brother with an elated look on her face and screamed, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" tackling him to the floor.

The other occupants of the room looked at the clock on the wall and noted that it was two minutes past midnight, which made it officially July 31st. Elle watched as her brother's friends each offered him birthday wishes and then excused herself to go to bed, not wanting to endure the wrath of Mrs. Weasley if she happened to find them all gathered together so late at night.

There were two days a year that Elle consented to get up before was absolutely necessary; July 31st for her brother's birthday and September 1st to get to Hogwarts. Therefore, the next morning Elle rose at the crack of dawn to run upstairs and wake her brother in the most obnoxious way possible, as she had done for the past ten or so years. Once she reached the landing that led to Harry and Ron's room she threw the door open and began to sing, as loud and off-tune as possible. Ron, who had woke at the sound of his door being slammed open chucked a pillow at her and grumbled, "Harry, have I ever told you I hate your birthday?"

Elle laughed at Ron and crossed the room to glare impatiently at Harry, who was sitting up staring at his sister with a tired but amused look. "Come on, come one, come one!" Elle insisted, pulling on his arm.

"Please go," Ron groaned shoving his head under the pillow Elle had tossed back at him.

Harry consented, grabbing his glasses and following his sister downstairs. Ever since Elle had realized that she and Harry had not grown up in a normal, loving home she would try to create traditions to compensate for the void she and her brother had felt. One of her favorite traditions was waking her brother up early on his birthday and cooking breakfast together, which the two would then share outside picnic-style.

When they were finally seated outside on a quilt Mrs. Weasley had set aside for them the night before Elle handed Harry the gift she'd made for him; a picture frame.

"It's enchanted," Elle explained as Harry gazed at the frame in his hand. "Instead of just one picture that moves, like most, I enchanted the frame to contain all of your pictures plus others that I added. It will display all of them randomly for five minutes each."

The picture that the frame was currently displaying was one of Elle and Luna Lovegood that Colin Creevey had taken the previous school year. The two girls were in the stands, cheering on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Luna had on the lion hat that she had made and was smiling dreamily as Elle, who was decked out in all of Harry's old Quidditch gear, was jumping up and down pumping her fists in the air. You could tell by the shape of her mouth that she was screaming, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The photo switched then and displayed Harry as he had been dressed to attend the Yule Ball. Elle was with him in the picture, dressed in a pair of worn Muggle jeans and an old shirt of Harry's. They were dancing around the Gryffindor common room to music they could no longer hear, the faces of fellow Gryffindors smiled and laughed at Elle trying to teach her brother how to dance at the very last minute. Harry knew that if the picture continued it would show how he had stepped on Elle's bare foot and then Elle shoving him angrily out the portrait hole.

"This is amazing, Ellvi," Harry said, his voice soaked with sincerity as he watched a picture that presented Harry and Sirius playing an almost violent game of wizard's chess with Elle and Lupin trying to help them cheat, switching sides whenever the fancy struck them.

"I know," Elle boasted. "My magical awesomeness leaves all those who witness it awestruck and feeling inferior."

"Quite a big head you've got there," Harry laughed along with her.

They sat in silence, as they often did, each thinking their own thoughts and not attempting to interrupt the others', until the rest of the residents in the house began to filter outside to spend Harry's birthday with him.

It was just a little after midnight, after the celebration of Harry's birthday had finally come to a close that Elle laid down in her bed. She didn't plan on sleeping; she never did on the night of her brother's birthday. She would wait for the rest of the house to fall asleep and then she would meet her brother in the living room for the tradition they had for her birthday, which was the day after his – August 1st.

She was lying, thinking wistfully of Hogwarts, when her door was cracked open and she could see her brother's disheveled hair through the opening. She got out of her bed as quietly as possible so as to not wake the sleeping Ginny and crept over to the door. Neither Potter said anything as they snuck about the Weasley's house until they were in the living room, where they were sure their voices would not disturb the other sleeping occupants of the Burrow.

Harry sat down in front of the couch and motioned for Elle to join him. Elle's birthday had always been a sort of sore spot for the girl's brother. He had never been able to get her anything until he had found out about their vault at Gringotts, therefore Elle had never received a present until Christmas during Harry's first year. Ever since they had money Harry had spent every birthday and Christmas trying to make up for all gifts he hadn't been able to give her when she was young.

When it seemed to Elle as though Harry wasn't going to say anything she began to poke and prod at him, whining, "Harry, did you forget my birthday?"

"Of course not!" Harry insisted, offended. He handed over the gift he had bought her with a soft, "Happy birthday, Ellvi."

Elle took the proffered object and looked at Harry with a bemused expression. The gift he had given her was a miniature maple wood wardrobe, similar to what was often put in expensive doll houses for small girls. It was beautiful, with flowers and a lion carved into each of the two doors.

"You do realize I've never played with a doll in my life?" Elle asked her brother. "And I think it would be a bit embarrassing if I took it up now."

Harry laughed at his sister, the confused look on her face was worth every Galleon he'd spent on the gift, he didn't get to see her stumped very often. "It's not for dolls," he explained. "It's a 'purse wardrobe.' It's pretty much a normal wardrobe, except it's been enchanted to shrink to fit in a witch's bag and it will enlarge to normal size upon the owner's wish for it to do so. And you don't have to use your wand for it to work; you just have to ask it. Oh, and the sales lady said you should ask it nicely."

Elle got up and placed the miniature wardrobe in the middle of the room. She stepped back from it a few paces before regarding it and saying, "Umm, Wardrobe? Would you, pretty please return to your normal size?" She hesitated a moment and threw in another, "Pretty please."

Elle stood back amazed as the tiny wardrobe seemed to begin to shimmer and then she watched as it slowly grew until it was taller and wider than her. The doors opened and a disembodied voice came from inside, saying, "There's no need to suck up so hard."

Elle was so started by her wardrobe talking to her that she squeaked and stepped back further, tripping over Harry and landing roughly in his lap.

"I paid a little extra to get the version that came with mirrors on the inside of the doors and a personality," Harry told her.

"You paid extra so that a normally inanimate object would chastise me for being overly polite?" Elle huffed.

"She's supposed to give you advice on clothes and stuff. I figured she might be more help than me," Harry said, chuckling at memories of trying to help his sister get ready and how fed up she'd get with him when he would constantly insist that her shorts were too short.

"I am still present," the wardrobe said. "And I was only trying to make a joke. I must admit that I am not very adept at making good first impressions."

"I-It's alright," Elle responded to her wardrobe. She stood up again to further inspect her gift. She noticed, then that the wardrobe was filled with clothes and on the lower half of the walls there were what appeared to be drawers and shelves. Upon the shelves she could see stacks of what looked like brand new jeans and shoes.

"Harry!" Elle exclaimed. "It's filled with new clothes!"

"Yeah, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna picked them out for you during a trip to Hogsmeade at the end of last term," Harry said. "Hermione also placed and Undetectable Extension Charm on it to make it a gigantic walk in closet, as her birthday gift to you. And Ginny and Luna were able to charm it so that nothing inside will fall out of place if it gets shuffled around in your bag, as their gift. They had to get help from Flitwick, but it looks like it works."

"Anything else I should know about it?" she asked.

"Ron's gift to you was charming it so that it would require a password after the first time you opened it. I think he tricked Hermione into doing it for him though, but the idea was his," Harry snickered at the antics of his male best friend.

"It's amazing! Though you didn't have to buy me all these new clothes," Elle said from inside the wardrobe. She was looking around, delight evident on her face.

"I figured it was about time you stopped wearing my hand-me-downs, which were previously Dudley's hand-me-downs," Harry said. "And you've never bought much for yourself with Mum and Dad's money before. They'd want you to have nice clothes like the rest of the girls your age. So if it makes you feel better, you can think of the clothes as a gift from them, not me."

Elle smiled, she had tears in her eyes as she rushed out of the wardrobe to embrace her brother. After setting a password and asking the wardrobe to shrink again Elle and Harry sat down on the couch.

"So what's it like being fifteen?" Harry asked his little sister.

"Have you been sixteen too long to remember?" Elle laughed in response.

They sat for a while, talking about whatever popped into their heads, before Elle finally asked – as she always had for as long as she could remember, "Sing it?"

There was one memory Harry had of their parents, it was of his mother holding his new sister in her arms and dancing and swaying around his room singing as he sat in his crib, giggling, clapping and watching them. It was extremely blurry to Harry, and he should have been too young to remember, but the first time he had heard the song, when he was five, the memory had seared into the forefront of his mind.

Ever since he had remembered he would sing the song, granted not very well, to Elle whenever she was upset and every year on her birthday. It made them feel as though they were sharing the moment with their mother as well.

Harry cleared his throat jokingly as Elle curled her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and laid her head on her older brother's shoulder. Wrapping his arm around her Harry began to sing softly to the girl he had had to raise in place of the parents that had been ripped from them much too early, "You are my sunshine."

He had held her crying in his arms the first time their Uncle Vernon told her she was worthless, "My only sunshine."

His little sister had asked him, instead of a father, if he was proud of her when she had received her Hogwarts acceptance letter, "You make me happy when skies are grey."

He could remember her first word, how he had been the one to encourage her to take her first steps, when he had told her to be brave while he was away from her, "You'll never know, dear, just how much I love you."

She was the only person who had always loved him unconditionally, even when she thought he was wrong. She was who he depended on to always be there, "Please don't take my sunshine away."

The sun rose over the Burrow as Harry finished singing to his sister. They could hear the sounds of the rest of the Weasley's coming down the stairs for Elle's birthday breakfast. Fred and George entered the living room, where they knew the Potter siblings would be, and herded them into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was placing mountains of breakfast foods on the table. Lupin was seated at the table and Elle rushed to greet him, sitting down beside him and telling him about Harry's present to her.

After breakfast was done the Weasleys, who hadn't been involved in to wardrobe gift, and Lupin took turns giving Elle their gifts.

The first Elle opened was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She was surprised to find that instead of the customary sweater they had given her a silver bracelet.

"I saw it and couldn't help myself," Mrs. Weasley explained. "You can attach charms to it as well."

"Which is why," Fred said, "George and I got you these!"

Each of the twins handed her a small charm. The one Fred gave her was a small version of the Weasley family crest. "Because you've been around so long I can seem to tell the difference between you and the rest of the lot anyways. Plus you've got the hair," he said, tugging on her ponytail.

"And mine's so you know even though we love you, someone else did too," George said. The one he had given her was similar to his twin's, but this one was the Potter family crest.

"We had them special made, so don't lose 'em," Fred said, a smile on his face.

Lupin went last, also gifting her with a charm, explaining, "I'm terrible at getting gifts for young girls, so I asked Molly and she told me about the bracelet."

The small charm was shaped to look like a wolf. Elle laughed, and hugged her uncle and then all of the Weasleys and Hermione, "Thank you all so much. This is by far the best birthday I've ever had."

It was at that moment that a large owl flew in and landed in the middle of the table.

"Oh, our Hogwarts letters!" Hermione said excitedly, collecting the letters from the owl, which took off as soon as it was relieved of its burden.

As Elle took her letter from Hermione, who was passing them out, she noticed it seemed heavier than usual. Upon opening the letter and shaking the contents loose a badge bearing the Gryffindor lion with the work 'prefect' above it fell into her palm.

"I've made prefect," Elle stated, her voice lacking excitement. She handed the badge to Harry who had gestured to let him see it.

"That's wonderful, Elle," Hermione congratulated her.

"But I didn't want to be prefect," Elle mumbled. "I don't give a rat's…"

"Language!" Mrs. Weasley corrected, hugging Elle, proud she had made prefect.

"I don't care about the rules. I spent most of my years there with Fred and George! How could this happen?" She asked. Fred and George were doubled over laughing at her.

"Don't be dramatic," Harry smirked, knowing how unhappy it made her. "Just think of the perks. Bathroom, you can wander the halls, and take points from snotty Slytherins. It won't be too bad."

Elle's nose stayed scrunched in distaste until George took the badge from her and enchanted it to say 'Pretty Prefect Please' and told her that because it sounded similar, in George's opinion, to 'pretty, pretty please' whenever anyone said that near her it would force them to immediately begin chanting the dirty version of the school song at the top of their lungs. For which Elle could deduct the student 50 house points. Elle giggled.

"So for the next month you'll be helping us at the shop," Fred reminded.

"We'll expect you all there bright and early tomorrow morning!" George chirped.

Elle groaned. She was beginning to think that agreeing to help the twins hadn't been the brightest idea. George patted her on the head and then he and Fred took their leave, back to Diagon Alley, followed closely by Lupin.

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**Fun Fact: At this point in the story the shipping almost changed. Any guesses as to who to? =p**


	5. The Eyes of Draco Malfoy

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is amazing, I'm just jealous. =)

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**

It was the day before Elle would board the Hogwarts Express with her brother and friends and she had been granted the rare opportunity to spend the morning sleeping in. Her peaceful morning was interrupted, however, when she was woken by a perturbed Ginny stomping into their room and slamming the door.

"What's your problem?" Elle grumbled, pulling her quilt tighter around her body.

"Phlegm," Ginny said, flopping down on her bed.

"What'd she do now?" Elle asked, sympathizing with her friend.

'Phlegm' was the nickname Ginny had given to her older brother, Bill's, new fiancé, Fleur Delacour. They had met her two years ago when she had competed against Harry in the Triwizard Tournament. Fleur was a French witch and was considered to be extremely beautiful, given her Veela genetics.

The female residents of the Burrow weren't very happy about her presence in their home and were often annoyed by her. Elle had given up trying to be pleasant to the girl entirely after she had accidentally insulted her and Dumbledore; she had then put most of her effort into keeping as far away from 'Phlegm' as possible.

"She insisted on making breakfast for everyone, and then she practically spoon-fed Harry, gushing the whole time about how he had saved that sister of hers," Ginny said. "And then she told Mum that the boys seemed to enjoy her cooking more. She's in her room, crying I think."

As Ginny finished talking their bedroom door opened and Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked in, all with glum looks on their faces. Ron and Hermione sat at the foot of Ginny's bed while Harry shoved Elle aside, forcing her into a sitting position, lying down in her bed.

"What are you doing?" Elle yelled, pulling the pillow out from underneath Harry's head and thumping him with it.

"Soon as Mum is ready she and Dad are taking us to Diagon Alley," Ron explained.

"Why? Hasn't everyone finished their school shopping?" Elle asked. She knew that they had all done their shopping during the times they were in Diagon Alley working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, just as she had.

"Yes," Hermione said. "But Mrs. Weasley really wants out of the house, she needs time away from Fleur, I think. So she's taking us to eat and to get any last minuet things we can think of."

"So, Phlegm isn't going?" Elle said with a grin.

"Nope," Ginny said, smiling.

"Jolly good! I'd do anything to get away from her for a day," Elle sighed happily.

"We know," Harry laughed. "Remember last week when you hid under your bed for two hours while she was looking for you to go dress shopping? Or the week before when you convinced Mad-Eye to lend you some Polyjuice Potion so you could spend the day looking like George so she'd leave you alone? And the day after she offended you when you spent three days insisting you only spoke Gobbledegook?"

Elle narrowed her eyes at her older brother, and said, "You don't understand what she's like. She not constantly telling you your hair is ruining the color scheme of her precious wedding!"  
"Yeah, like we meant to be born with red hair just to one day bother her wedding plans," Ginny agreed, rolling her eyes.

"Come one, let's go," Hermione said, before the Potter and Weasley siblings could begin yet another argument about the pros and cons of Fleur's personality.

After Elle had dressed for the trip Hermione led the way downstairs to the sitting room, the rest of the teens glowering at each other and, in Elle and Harry's case, making awful faces at one another.

Once they were all gathered in the room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley included, they were instructed that no one was to wander alone at any time and that they were to keep their wands with them, just in case.

"We're going to grab a bite to eat at the Leaky Cauldron first," Mrs. Weasley said; eyes still a bit red-rimmed from Fleur's snub. "Then you can shop a bit and look around if you want."

Elle watched as Mr. Weasley took out a pouch and tipped some of its contents into the fireplace, then handed the pouch to Mrs. Weasley before stepping into the green flames that had erupted within the mantle, shouting, "The Leaky Cauldron."

The rest of the children took turns repeating his actions, disappearing one by one. Elle went after Harry, and enjoyed the feeling of the green flames swirling about her. She landed roughly, soot billowing up and clinging to her clothes, in the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron, stepping out she joined the others in waiting for Mrs. Weasley to appear.

An hour later they were sitting around a large table finishing up their meal, and deciding on what they'd like to do for the day.

"I'm going to go to Flourish and Blotts," Hermione stated predictably. "Do you want to go with me, Elle?"

Hermione often forgot that while Elle was as intelligent as her she didn't quite like to spend as much time as Hermione did reading spell books. She felt that the books in the school library and the ones Dumbledore assigned her personally were more than enough reading material.

"Thanks, but I'm got to Fred and George's," Elle began, getting interrupted by Ron.

"Why in Merlin's beard would you want to go back there after all the work they made us do all summer?" He asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"Because, Ronald, they said that next time I was in Diagon Alley to stop by because they have something they wanted to show me," Elle said, irritated at Ron. "They said you should come too, Gin. And Hermione if you wanted."

"Yeah, I'll come," Ginny agreed. "I think they said it was a new line for Witches."

"I'll stop by some other time, I really want a book I saw advertised in the _Prophet_," Hermione stated.

"I'll head with you then, bookstore is better than Fred trying to put me to work again," Ron said with a nod.

"Harry?" Elle questioned, poking his ear to annoy him.

Swatting her hand away he said, "I'll go to Wheezes with you if you go to Broomstix with me after."

"To spend hours staring at sticks?" Elle scrunched up her nose in distaste.

"You owe me," Harry said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't you remember telling me that if I took the blame for you losing Dudley's game you'd go with me?"

"That doesn't count! I said that while in fear for my life. Nothing said before an eminent pounding from Dudley counts!" Elle insisted, waving her hands frantically.

"Does," Harry said simply, pulling his sister to her feet as the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione began to make their ways out of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Don't forget to stick together and meet back here in three hours," Mr. Weasley called as they exited into Diagon Alley and went their separate ways. They waved at Ron and Hermione before turning in the opposite direction to head to Fred and George's joke shop.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was crowded with people when the three entered, most were students they could recognize from Hogwarts. They started making their way around the shop, stopped occasionally by friends and people who were akin to unwanted fans, looking for either George or Fred.

"Elle! ELLE!" They heard from behind them. Elle considered ignoring the voice and continuing as if she hadn't heard, but Harry turned to see who was shouting for his sister making it impossible for Elle to continue without snubbing the fellow student.

"Colin," She addressed the mousy, sandy-haired boy.

Colin Creevey was a boy who was in Gryffindor house, in the same year as Elle and Ginny. During their first year Colin had followed Harry around like an overly enthusiastic fan, taking pictures of everything he did. Lately, much to Elle's embarrassment, he had seemed to have developed a rather large crush on her. He had taken to constantly trying to get her attention while at school; sitting with her in the Great Hall, asking her for homework help, and trying to partner with her at any chance available to him during classes. Elle had gone to great lengths to avoid dealing with his crush, as the feelings were clearly not mutual.

"What are you doing here?" Colin asked, smiling widely at Elle and attempting to pull her into a hug. Harry, thankfully, leaned forward at that moment to clap Colin roughly on the shoulder in greeting, intervening on his sister's behalf and answering for her.

"We're here so Fred and George can show the girls a new line," Harry said, pleasantly.

"Speaking of which," Elle said, looking around in hopes that one of the twins would swoop in and gather her and Ginny out of the uncomfortable conversation.

Colin cut her off before she could finish excusing herself, saying, "What classes are you taking this year Elle?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Elle fidgeted, still looking around for a sign of the twins.

"I thought you were going to take a new class this year?" Colin said, obviously hoping that if he knew what it was he could switch into it with her.

"Er, yeah, I am," Elle said.

"Well, what is it?" Colin asked excitedly.

"Something much too advanced for you to get into, surely," a deep, cool voice drawled from behind Colin. "Still can't get rid of your lap dog, Potter?"

Draco Malfoy walked up to them, hands in his pockets and a cold look in his eyes. He was looking at Harry, as he always did, not sparing any time to insult the younger Potter sibling.

"What are you doing in here, Malfoy? I didn't know you had a sense of humor," Harry retorted.

"I'm taking Advanced Incantations and Spells," Elle stated, before the blond could get his insult out.

"I've never even heard of that," Colin said, morosely.

"It's a 7th year class, Creevey," Malfoy sneered at the tiny boy. "One you'll never be allowed into."

"What are you still doing here Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

"I can be wherever I want, Potter," Malfoy said, looking away from him and back again.

Elle watched as the two boys stared each other down for a minute, before Malfoy tore his eyes from Harry and lowered them to her. She noticed that they looked darker than usual, and more troubled. She watched him take her in, his eyes searching her up and down before locking gazes with her again. He let out a breath that he seemed to have been holding, and his broad shoulders relaxed somewhat.

Elle opened her mouth to ask him if he was alright, but thought better of it. Saying, instead, "Well, as fun and strange as this has been," she gestured around to the group of people gathered around her, "I really did have a reason for coming here, so I'll see you at school, Colin. Watch yourself, Malfoy."

To the three Gryffindors it sounded like she was threatening Draco, but as she began to pull Harry and Ginny away she caught his grey eyes again and made sure her face conveyed that she hadn't meant it that way. He nodded in understanding and turned to exit the shop.

"Oh, little Ellie, there you are," George said, appearing before them.

"What did you want to show us?" she asked, genuinely curious about their new inventions.

"Come with me," he said, ushering them into the back of the shop.

The store room was stacked to the celling with boxes of the items that the store sold; some looked to be stacked so precariously that they could fall over at any minute. The room looked the same as it had the last time she had been in it during her final shift of work, except for a large cage that stood in the center of the room.

This cage is what George led them over to, saying, "These are our newest creations."

Inside was what looked like balls of fur, of all different types of colors, and in various sizes. George opened the door to the cage and scooped out the largest ball and offered it to the girls. Elle took it from his outstretched hand and looked down to examine it.

It was blue and, upon closer examination she noticed that amidst the mass of colorful fluff there was a little face and two un-proportionally large feet that had three toes. Its face resembled that of a mouse or hamster, and was extremely cute.

"Oooh, what is it?" Elle asked, playing with its fur.

"We call 'em Pygmy Puffs," George said. "This is our first batch. We thought the young girls would love 'em."

"What do they do?" Harry asked, already sensing his sister's desire to have one.

"Mainly they're just to cuddle and play with," George said. "But they can be useful at fetching things, you know, very intelligent apparently. They can pop to and from places if you give 'em good instructions."

"So they can come to wherever you are, kind of like a house-elf?" Elle asked, delighted by the little creatures.

"Well put," George said, agreeing. "Fred and I've decided that you and Ginny, and Hermione if she wants can all have one, so long as you brag about where you got 'em. This is only our beginners so we don't want to put 'em out just yet, for we need 'em to breed. But we can spare two or three to our favorite sisters."  
"Really?" the two girls asked, excited.

"Sure, but pick one of the little ones, the big guys are our breeders," he nodded.

Elle put the large blue one back in and looked over the tiny ones, Ginny had already picked out a medium sized purple one and named it Arnold. Elle's eyes were drawn to the smallest of the bunch, a bright green one that was looking up at her hopefully. She went to reach back into the cage but stopped when she heard a soft _ping_ and felt a small weight in her hand, finding that it had come out to her of its own accord.

"That's weird; they can't normally do that until you've named 'em and trained 'em. It took me forever to get the big blue one to do it," George said, peering at the little green ball. "And he's the runt too. I figured he'd be the one you'd pick though. Itty bitty like you and green just like your eyes, you were made for each other."

Hitting him on the arm she picked up a cage to place her new Pygmy Puff in and before she'd even managed to open the door, she heard another _ping_ and saw him sitting on the bar that went across the middle of the cage, gazing up at her happily.

Elle smirked and turned to George, saying, "I'd have thought you'd learned by knowing me that size doesn't matter."

Later that night Harry was sitting on Elle's bed while she was playing with her Pygmy Puff. They were talking about boarding the train to Hogwarts the next day.

"I'm thrilled to go back, but I don't want to be Prefect," Elle muttered, rubbing the Puff behind a tiny ear and giggling when she heard it begin to purr.

"It won't be bad, Elle," Harry repeated his assurance to the girl for the hundredth time.

"I won't get to sit with you on the train," Elle complained.

"You know, there's going to be a day when you're going to have to unstick yourself from my side," Harry teased.

She narrowed her eyes defiantly and ignored him, as she always did when she was miffed off with him. Sighing, Harry asked, "So what did you name it?"

"Uric the Oddball," Elle said, causing the green Puff to disappear from her lap and onto her head, where it jumped up and down excitedly.

"You always have to be abnormal, don't you?" Harry laughed.

"I'm not abnormal."  
"You named your pet after a wizard who wore a jelly fish for a hat."

"I think it fits. He was a powerful wizard who everyone discounted just because he was a bit off his rocker. My Puff was discredited just because he was small, but he does more than Ginny's, who is twice his size," Elle defended, and Uric the Oddball began to purr again, hopping onto her shoulder and nuzzling into her hair where it couldn't be seen.

Dinner that night was a quite affair, other than the constant commentary of Fleur. Mrs. Weasley refused to look at the French girl and Elle and Ginny were glaring at her every chance they got; Elle receiving kicks under the table from her brother whenever he noticed, to remind her of her manners. Elle returned his kicks, eventually flinging a spoon at his head when he had kicked her too hard. None of this received comment from Mrs. Weasley. Fleur didn't seem to notice the gloomy attitude of the other females or the unusual quite from the males and just continued to babble on and on about her wedding plans.

Mrs. Weasley excused all the children earlier than what she would have the night before they left for Hogwarts and everyone retired to their rooms to escape the horrid atmosphere. Elle laid down immediately upon entering her room, as did Ginny. Both girls were entirely too ready to return to school and hoped that morning would come as soon as possible.

Elle looked up at the stacks of dark smoke wafting up from the Hogwarts Express and felt a jolt of glee at the thought of dinner in the Great Hall and of seeing her friends and attending classes again. She was currently standing idly beside Hermione and Ron waiting for Harry and Ginny to cross the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾ with the Weasley parents, but her patience was growing thin. She wanted to board the train and find her best friend, Luna, to see if she had been made a Ravenclaw Prefect. Elle was hopping that she had been, so that she could spend her time in the Prefect car catching up with the odd girl.

She was currently considering the possibility of ditching the ever watching eyes of Hermione to head off in pursuit of somewhere to stash her trunk when Harry and Ginny and the two older Weasleys appeared before them. Staunching Elle's need to be on her way was Mrs. Weasley's watery eyes, as she began to hug all of the children and spout the usual warnings like, 'stay out of trouble' and 'study hard,' along with some new ones, which included; 'don't try anything stupid,' 'no running off after You-Know-Who,' and 'if you're going to fight a Death Eater at least wait for back up this time.'

Elle decided these were probably pretty good pieces of advice given their history, and hugged Mrs. Weasley's shaking frame, promising to be as good as possible.

Finally boarding the train she performed a charm on her trunk and added its lightened weight to her brother's burden, charming his as well. She followed Harry and Ginny to the compartment they were going to be in just so she would know which it was before setting off to find Luna, with a flustered Hermione calling at her back, "Prefect meeting starts in twenty minutes!"

Shoving her way down the aisle of the train she searched every compartment for a hint of her best friend. Elle finally found her already seated in the Prefects' compartment, dressed in her school robes and reading _The Quibbler_.

"Luna!" She called, sitting beside the girl and kicking her yellow combat boot-clad feet onto the bench opposite her.

"I picked those boots out," Luna said, happily. "I figured they'd be good for stomping on unwanted wriglers. They detest bright colors."

"Yeah, they could come in handy for that someday," Elle agreed. "I just like them because it's a good place to store my wand." Elle motioned to her right boot where you could see the end of her wand sticking out.

They were joined then by the new Head Boy and Girl, who were followed shortly by Ron and Hermione. Elle removed her feet from the bench and tried to ignore Colin, who had seated himself next to her.

"Congrats on making Prefect," he said. "I'm not surprised, though, you being top of our class."

"Yeah, and she's Dumbledore's favorite," the scratchy voice of Pansy Parkinson said from the seat diagonal to hers.

Sitting right across from Elle, where she had previously had her feet propped, was Draco Malfoy. Elle had been concentrating so hard on not making eye contact with Colin that she hadn't noticed either 6th year Slytherin enter. Draco was gazing intently at the celling while trying to pry Pansy's hand off his arm. Elle took the time to giggle at Pansy's expense before stating in a bored tone, "I may be Dumbledore's favorite, but it sure as hell isn't the reason I made Prefect. I actually asked him to spare me, but he didn't seem to take that into consideration, seeing as I'm stuck in here with you."

The Heads took the opportunity to begin the meeting then, and Elle half listened to their instructions but spent most of the time reciting the history of a Centaur war in her head. She was trying to ignore the stare she could feel upon her face and refused to meet the eyes of the person. Elle didn't have much desire to accidentally see something in the eyes of Draco Malfoy that would unsettle her, like it had in Diagon Alley.

"We'll be rotating shifts and partners," the Head Boy was explaining and Elle took the time out of stating word for word the Treaty of Bowing Forest to shoot him a glance that showed her distaste for the idea.

"Have you got a problem, Potter?" Head Girl asked. Elle hadn't bothered to pay attention when she introduced herself.

"Many," Elle stated. "But I was just wondering why you've decided that?"

"The Headmaster wants," Head Girl began, but Elle cut her off.

"To improve inter-house relations, yes, I've heard the theory. But do you really think it's a good idea to pair up people who would jump at the chance to hex each other in a deserted corridor?" Elle asked, not looking forward to spending time with Pansy Parkinson.

"Elle, you're being rude," Hermione chastised. "Though, I agree. Maybe we could patrol in groups of four?"

"No, that wastes resources. We won't be able to cover as much of the school that way," Head Boy said.

"Maybe then just be open to people refusing to work together?" a Hufflepuff interjected.

"That'd be good," Elle agreed. "Just don't make us patrol with people we can't get along with. Wouldn't that be better for the school and sticking to tasks anyways?"

"I guess," Head Girl said, reluctantly.

"But you only get to veto one person off of your possible partner list," Head Boy said.

"We should do that now," Elle insisted.

"Fine," the Head Boy huffed. "Everyone say who they don't want to be with. Hermione will you keep a list?"

"Of course," Hermione said, pulling out parchment and quill.

"You can go first," Head Girl told her.

"Oh, um, I'd rather not be with Parkinson," she said writing it down. "Ron?"

"Count me out for time with Malfoy," Ron told her.

Hermione went around the compartment gathering the names of people the Prefects were refusing to partner with, many of the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors chose not to be with Slytherins.

"Luna?" Hermione asked the Ravenclaw, who had been staring dreamily out a window.

"Oh, it doesn't matter much to me," she replied. "I can be with anyone."

Elle chuckled as Hermione finally addressed her, "I suppose you'll chose Malfoy as well?"

Elle started, finally locking eyes with the boy across from her and noticed a heated look on his face, aimed at Hermione. Staring at him quizzically she said, "Actually, I'd rather not be with Colin, he distracts me. No offense Colin, just want to keep focused, you know."

Elle was still studying Draco as Colin shrugged, seemingly completely undeterred. Draco met her gaze then, and raised his eyebrows in question, the corner of his mouth turning up.

"Potter won't be happy when we get partnered," Malfoy warned.

Elle snorted and shrugged, keeping her eyes on the blond before her as she responded, "He knows I could beat you in a duel, he'll get over it after I remind him of that."

Draco smirked but didn't get a chance to respond. Pansy had taken it upon herself to come to his defense, "You're so full of yourself, Potter. You don't know Draco at all!"

Elle watched as anger touched at Draco's features and he finally ripped Pansy off his arm, his eyes still holding Elle's. Elle tipped her head to the side and shrugged again, ignoring the pug-faced girl.

"Hello! I'm talking to you," Pansy screeched. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. I'm higher ranked than you! Insubordination!"

"Shut up, Parkinson," Draco demanded. "Only the Heads are ranked any differently than the rest of us."

"Calm down," Head Boy said. "Let's just get this over with, yeah?"

"Colin?" Hermione asked. "Who do you not want to be with?"

"Neil," he responded, referring to the 5th year Slytherin Prefect.

"Parkinson," Hermione snapped, glaring at her.

"That cow, Potter," Pansy hissed, glaring at an uninterested Elle, who was still taking part in a staring contest of sorts with Draco.

"You're last, Malfoy," Hermione snipped at him.

Elle watched as Draco leaned his head back, his steel eyes never letting go of Elle's green ones. He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle so that they now rested very close to Elle's.

"Parkinson," he stated, as though it should have been obvious.

"What is it Draco? Did you need my opinion? I think you should choose Potter," Pansy said fast, in a high, breathy voice.

"I was telling Granger, Parkinson, that I didn't want to be partnered with you," he said slowly.

All eyes in the compartment turned to Draco; everyone had expected him to choose Elle, her being the younger sibling of Harry Potter. Draco never looked away from Elle, even after Pansy had started to weep and beg him to reconsider.

"Are we done here?" he asked.

The still gaping Heads seemed to collect themselves somewhat and dismissed the Prefects to their compartments, asking them to patrol every once and awhile. Elle remained in her seat, knowing Luna would take a while to snap out of her day dream to accompany her to their compartment.

Elle relinquished her hold on Draco's eyes and looked around to see most of the car now deserted. She looked back to see him still sitting there, looking at her. Elle decided not to comment on his behavior and closed her eyes, she whispered, "Oddball."

She noticed Draco give her a questioning look, but kept silent still. She held out her hand and heard the familiar _ping_. Her green Puff appeared in her hand, and scuttled quickly up her arm to her shoulder.

"What in the name of Merlin is that?" Draco exclaimed.

"A Pygmy Puff. Fred and George created them. Available soon at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Elle said.

Draco continued to look at her as though she'd grown another head, and asked, "Why did you tell be it would be available soon?"

"George told me to brag, so people would know where to get them," Elle giggled, plucking the Puff from her shoulder and holding it out to him.

"I don't want to hold it," Draco said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Oddball made a sad growl-like noise and hopped into Elle's lap. Fluffing its enormous amount of fur, Elle whispered so that Draco could hear her, "It's okay, Oddball. It's nothing personal; he's like that to everyone."

Draco nearly smiled at her, but straightened his face out before she could really hold it against him.

"I have things to do," he said, excusing himself. Standing up he made to move towards the sliding door.

Elle looked up at him and narrowed her eyes slightly, "Watch yourself, Draco."

He looked down at her, his face softening from its normal composure and for a moment Elle could see the stress he was harboring. She was growing concerned for the older boy because of the things she had seen in his eyes during the past hour and at Wheezes.

"Keep out of trouble, Elle," he whispered, barely getting the words out. The concern in his voice and eyes didn't go unnoticed.

Elle dipped her chin, not really agreeing, but in recognition. "I never get in trouble," she said.

"I'm not talking about school," He said in the same voice.

Elle was having a hard time understanding what was taking place, all the emotions she could decipher from Draco were confusing her own. It seemed as though he was scared for her.

"Sure thing," Elle said, trying to smile.

Draco nodded and turned towards the door; he hesitated just barely before sliding it open and glanced back at the red-head who was now holding her pet against her chest for comfort.

"Help is always given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," she whispered, not able to force herself to look into his tremulous eyes again.

He gave no sign that he had heard her words, and she didn't see the pain filled look he gave her. She only gathered her courage in time to see him step out the door and close it behind him, hiding him from her view.

"Oh, everyone has gone," Luna said, looking around the cabin in wonder. "How long until we get to the castle?"

"Probably an hour, let's go find the others, Lu," Elle replied getting up from her seat, still staring at the spot where Draco had just disappeared.

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**If you love Draco then review.**

**If you don't he'll think you don't want him around.**

**And he's not as easy to please as Dobby. =/**

**Next Chapter is ready and waiting, review to get it out faster. =P**

**^ Bribe.  
**


	6. Welcome Back

**I'm currently the overworked owner of five English assignments per week this semester, none of them have anything to do with _Harry Potter_. =(**

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"Welcome back, students. I am glad to see so many of your faces still looking up at me. There are a few announcements I need to make, and I beseech you to listen closely," Headmaster Dumbledore was saying. "As times grow more trying we are at a greater risk than ever. We need to ban together and stand strong against adversity. We need to keep our friends close and keep our wits about us. I implore you, do not stray from Hogwarts. You are safe within these walls and on our grounds, but if you wander too far you may put yourself in unnecessary danger. Also, I'm going to say, as I often do, that now is the time to let go of old prejudices, we do not need to add to the hate Lord Voldemort will try to spread. Please, if there is anything you learn here this year let it be acceptance and love."

Elle watched as the tired-looking headmaster surveyed his pupils, his eyes resting for only a second longer on the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables.

"He says it every year," Ron whispered. "But it's still a fat chance. You can't trust Slytherins as far as you can levitate them."

Elle watched as Harry nodded his agreement, wondering if there was a chance at all for Dumbledore's wish to come true. Looking over at the Slytherin table she noticed all the sneers on their faces and decided there probably wasn't.

"We have two changes in staff this year," Dumbledore continued. "Professor Horace Slughorn will take up the position of Potions Maser."  
"WHAT?" Harry yelled, looking at Elle. "How did you know?"

"I didn't. I guessed. I've heard Dumbledore talk about him before, but I couldn't remember what he taught," Elle defended.

"And Professor Snape will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said.

"NO!" Harry yelled, and tried to stand out of his seat. Elle latched onto his arm and yanked him back down.

All across the Great Hall students were shouting their disapproval. Cheers erupted from the Slytherins. Elle stared up at her headmaster her face calm and collected. Dumbledore's eyes fell on her and they seemed dull once again. Turning back to her table she slammed her hand down, drawing attention to herself. Her housemates quieted, knowing the small girl shouldn't be tested if she was angry. Her eyes skimmed the table, conveying that they stay silent with their opinions so as not to disrespect the headmaster.

The other tables, noticing the quieting of the Gryffindors, silenced too. All eyes were upon the Gryffindors, who had their eyes trained on Elle. She exchanged a glance with her brother who nodded reluctantly and they both turned back to Dumbledore, maintaining a respectful silence, and the rest of the student body followed their example.

"On a lighter and last note," the voice of Dumbledore tried to chuckle at the front of the Great Hall. "Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that there is a very extensive list of banned objects and has added anything from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to this list."

The Gryffindor table erupted in applause at the mention of Fred and George's shop. Elle joined Harry, Ron, and Ginny in beginning a chant of "Wheezes! Wheezes! Wheezes!" and pumping her fists in the air. Soon the whole of Gryffindor table and much of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs had joined in, smiles lighting up the previously gloomy faces.

She looked over to see what the Slytherin table was doing and was surprised to see Draco looking at her again, his face void of the distaste the rest of his housemates were showing. He seemed to be isolated from his normal group, all of the other Slytherins giving his seat in the middle of the table enough space to show he wasn't exactly with any of them. She did notice some of them shooting him awestruck and fearful glances.

Pulling her attention back to the Gryffindor table she continued the chant until a smiling Dumbledore raised his hand to restore the disrupted silence yet again. His face looking much more cheerful than it had before, he continued, "Now that you are well fed, I suspect it is time for you to retire to your dormitories. Classes begin bright and early tomorrow morning. Prefects round up the first years and show them where to go."

"First years!" Hermione called, taking charge of the Gryffindor Prefects. "This way!"

Elle helped Hermione, Ron, and Colin herd the first year Gryffindors up to the seventh floor corridor where the portrait of the Fat Lady would be. She noticed that one of the first years kept looking up at her and whispering to his friend.

"Oi, what are you looking at?" Colin demanded from beside her in an attempt to defend her honor or something ridiculous, she was sure.

Rolling her eyes she tried to pretend he wasn't there, by keeping her eyes straight ahead. This didn't stop the young girl from asking, "Aren't you Elle Potter?"

Sighing, she answered, "I am."

"Why are you staring at her?" Colin asked, a little too harshly.

"'Oo woudn' stare at 'er?" Seamus Finnegan laughed, flinging his arm around Elle's shoulder. Seamus had become a good friend of Elle's throughout the years, often enjoying and taking part in her exploits with Fred and George.

Colin seemed agitated and moved up the line of Gryffindors to distance his wounded pride from the Scott.

"You're Harry Potter's sister?" the first year piped up.

"Every day of my life, unfortunately," Elle laughed.

The first years that had heard stared up at her in wonder. She could hear them speculating about how cool it must be to be related to the Boy Who Lived, and did her best to keep her sarcastic comments to herself.

They finally reached the portrait and a frazzled Hermione announced the password and told them to never write them down, which caused the older students to snicker and Neville Longbottom's ears to turn red. Elle saw her brother clap a hand on Neville's shoulder as he turned to the Fat Lady who tried, as always, to get the group to let her sing for them.

"Canary Creams!" Harry shouted above the singing of the portrait.

The Gryffindors pushed and shoved trying to get through the hole that had appeared behind the Fat Lady. Elle tried her best, after a stern look from Hermione, to make sure none of the first years ended up trampled.

"This is the Gryffindor common room, were you can spend time with your friends or do some studying," Hermione said to the gathered first years as the rest of the Gryffindors either pushed through them to get to their rooms or to claim a seat near the fire. Elle tried to get up to her dorm to change her clothes but was stopped by Hermione gripping her robes and holding her in place.

"Boys dorm is first floor on the right, girls first on your left," Hermione continued, as both Ron and Elle continued to attempt to get away from her. "We are your Gryffindor Prefects and you can come to any of us with any problems you may have or for any help you may want."

Finally released Elle rushed up the stairs in front of the curious first years. Upon entering her room she quickly changed into some Muggle lounge clothes and grabbed the sleeping Oddball off her pillow to play with, then headed back down to the common room where she had seen Harry and Ginny take up seats around the fireplace.

Elle had been sitting almost silently on an oversized couch beside her brother paying attention to only the Puff that would appear in her lap every couple of minutes with various objects from other parts of the castle. She was trying to learn the limitations of what he could fetch for her and had not been able to find any as of yet. At her feet was a pile of junk that Oddball had brought her, correctly every time. She had a broom from the Slytherin Quidditch teams' lockers, a mug from the kitchens, a bottle of Polyjuice Potion from Snape's private store, Hagrid's orange and yellow spotted tie, and McGonagall's right shoe.

"Is there anything he can't do?" Ron asked amazed as Oddball appeared with bar of chocolate from the kitchens that Ron had requested.

"I don't know," Elle replied, patting the proud-looking tiny Puff as it sat on her leg.

"See if he can fetch you all of Snape's robes," Harry suggested.

"I do not want to see a naked Snape," She refused.

"Harry, are we doing Dumbledore's Army again this year?" Neville asked from where he sat on the floor.

"I dunno, Neville," Harry said looking at Elle next to him and them to his best friends. "Do we need to?"

"D.A. was because we didn't have a proper teacher last year," Hermione said. "Though none of us are happy about Snape teaching it, he'll be better than Umbridge."  
"So you don't think we should continue?" Ron asked her.

"I say we wait and see if the need arises," Elle stated, sending McGonagall her shoe back with Oddball. "If we don't think Snape is enough we'll start it back up."

"Sounds good," Harry said. He and the other 6th year boys that had been gathered made their way up to their room for the night after the conversation ended.

Being late to her first Advanced Incantations and Spells class wasn't Elle's idea of a good way to start her day. Running through a deserted corridor on the seventh floor Elle turned a corner and impacted with a hard body. Large hands grabbed her before she could fall and stationed her backpack back onto her arm all while she tried frantically to get around the person she had collided with, paying no attention to who she had hit.

"Sorry, sorry," She exclaimed loudly. "I'm alright."

Elle finally managed to disentangle herself from the grasp of the other body. Moving around them she threw a glance over her shoulder as an afterthought. She was only mildly surprised to see that it had been Draco; who, she noted, was beginning to look paler than usual and extremely disheveled.

Returning to her sprint through the halls she shoved the boy's oddities out of her head. She finally found the classroom she needed and tried to halt her run too quickly, which resulted in her tripping on the hem of her robe and tumbling the rest of the way into the room. Gathering herself just before she hit the floor she stood and surveyed the room.

It seemed like any normal classroom at Hogwarts; blackboard at the front and a teacher's desk in the normal spot, along with all the rows of desks for students. The only odd thing about the room was that it was void of people, save for one other than her. Elle stared at where the other person stood chuckling softly to themselves at the front of the room and felt her bag slide off her shoulder.

"You always find the most amusing ways to enter a room," he said.

"Yeah, just good luck, I suppose," she replied.

"Well, come on, come on. Do get comfortable. I know how you hate those robes. There will be no need for you to where them in this class from now on," he motioned for her to come forward and take a seat in the first row.

"Professor, has there been a fault in my schedule?" Elle inquired pulling her school robe off and ditching it onto the floor with her backpack as she took the seat he had motioned to.

"Not at all, Elle. I have merely decided that this will be the best way for us to continue your instruction," Professor Dumbledore stated kindly.

"Why, though?" she looked up at him confusedly.

"I decided that in order to do all the things that I need to accomplish this year we cannot meet at the same time as before, though you will notice we meet on the same days," he smiled.

"What do you need to accomplish?" curiosity dripped from her question.

"I have business, as you know, with your older brother. It is finally time, I think, that he start preparing for the task that lies ahead of him," Dumbledore said, his face falling as he talked of a touchy subject.

Elle removed her eyes from the headmaster and looked unfocusedly at her hands that were clasped together tightly on the top of her desk. She knew very well what he meant when speaking of tasks for Harry. He had informed her at the end of last year about his theory involving Voldemort and how he managed to cling to life all those years.

"Are you sure it can't wait for a bit longer?" Elle asked. She tried to keep all signs of begging out of her voice.

"It is time, I can assure you, child. I fear I need to impart this information into him sooner than I'd hoped, but alas; life gets in the way of even my best laid plans," He informed her, holding up his charred hand for emphasis.

"Are you going to explain what happened?" Elle asked, trying to push past the fear that was creeping upon her.

"I am, as it has to do with what we have previously discussed concerning Lord Voldemort and Harry," the old wizard nodded his head solemnly.

"Horcruxes?" Elle wondered.

"Precisely," the professor said. He regarded the young girl before him for quite some time. He had always had his doubts about pushing her before she was ready, and he had trouble qualifying fifteen years of age ready for anything like what she would go through. He noted her shoulders always held straight and her chin in its usual confident position, her green eyes however had lost their innocence. It was his entire fault, he knew – though maybe some blame could be place upon Lord Voldemort, but it hadn't been the dark wizard that guided her into deeper and more difficult magic during every meeting they had. It was he, Albus Dumbledore, who trained her for war.

He wished times could be different, and the power that Elle held at her finger tips could be slowly crafted and taught through him and her parents. That she did not have to ever use it for what she would inevitably come to. He wished he could hide her away, like her brother had asked; he wanted nothing more than to hide them all away.

He knew, though, that he could not. No amount of thought, or planning – no amount of magic could change the path the two Potters, and the world that would follow them, were on. It had been divined, it had been chosen by the fates. Harry Potter was the only one who had the power to destroy Lord Voldemort and Elle had been created to make sure that the world would not despair and fall before her older brother was ready.

She was so strong, the aged headmaster mused, but so small. The Wizarding community and been thrust upon her shoulders and she had not hesitated for a single moment. She had taken it and made it her burden and Dumbledore couldn't help but swell with pride at how well she handled it. She kept her calm when faced with obstacles the likes of which most people never saw, and she easily took on the role of leader for those who needed guidance. Elle Potter had come far, he concluded, and she was ready to do what would be needed of her.

Elle waited quietly for Dumbledore to gather his thoughts and begin his explanation. After years of private study with him she knew when to hold her tongue and when to wait out his silences. For a moment Elle's thoughts strayed to the harried-looking Draco she had seen in the corridor, and what he had been doing. Worry crept though her veins as her mentor opened his mouth to continue, she knew that something was very wrong at Hogwarts.

"As you know; I believe that Lord Voldemort created Horcruxes to enable him to escape death. Do you remember what a Horcrux is?" he asked her.

"A part of someone's soul that has been severed from the whole, by means of murder, and sealed away within an object for safekeeping," Elle said, proving she did indeed remember.

"Good, good. And as I have wondered; it may be possible that he has created more than one. Knowing him as a boy I think this will definitely be the case," Dumbledore explained further.

"How many do you think he would have created?" Elle asked, troubled by the thought of dozens of bits of Voldemort's soul strewn about in everyday objects.

"I can't be sure, at the moment. I am still working on retrieving that information. This is one of the things I need Harry's help with. I believe the Professor Slughorn may have the memory we need in order to conjecture how many Lord Voldemort would attempt," Dumbledore responded.

"Why do you think that?"

"Professor Slughorn taught here many years ago, as you know, and I have hazarded a guess that the young Tom Riddle would have asked him about Horcruxes back when he was a student here," the headmaster looked displeased, as he shared this with Elle.

"How will Harry help?" she wondered aloud.

"I am going to begin working privately with him so as to transfer the knowledge I have on finishing Lord Voldemort and I am going to ask him to persuade Professor Slughorn to give him the memory we need," he said.

"And your hand has something to do with all of this?" she inferred.

"Ah, how to address that?" Dumbledore mused. "Over the summer I spent some time tracking a lead I had on a possible Horcrux. I found it within the rubble of the home of Lord Voldemort's mother."

"You found one?" Elle's eyes widened in excitement.

"I did; it was a ring. I would think that there have been two destroyed now," he answered.

"And the other would be?" she asked, her eyes searching Dumbledore's.

"Can you think of nothing you and your friends have come into contact with that could be guessed to contain part of Lord Voldemort's soul?" the headmaster asked to challenge her somewhat.

Elle pondered for a moment. She thought back through her years at Hogwarts and tried to draw a connection between an object and Voldemort's soul. It was almost shockingly obvious now.

"Riddle's Diary!" She said.

Dumbledore nodded his approval of her guess. He stayed quite for a few moments, waiting for Elle to draw conclusions about his hand. It didn't take long before the girl blurted, "And the ring Horcrux; it attacked your hand in some manner?"

"Yes, I was too foolish when I found it. I actually placed it on my own finger. I should have known there would be a curse protecting it," the headmaster said while inspecting his hand.

"Why haven't you gotten it put right?" Elle looked baffled. "Why did you put it on to begin with?"

"I will answer both," Dumbledore sighed. "But as always I must ask you to remember that I am not unable to make mistakes. I will begin with answering what I think will be easier for you to deal with. Do you remember the storybook I once gave you? _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_?"

Dumbledore hesitated before continuing, "I told you I took a great interest in the _Tale of the Three Brothers_, the ones who became the masters of Death. I shared with you my thoughts on this tale, you know how I believe the Deathly Hallows, the wand, the stone, and the cloak, are real items. Well, I do not believe Lord Voldemort is yet aware of this because he turned the Resurrection stone into a Horcrux."

And then it dawned upon Elle and she saw Dumbledore's biggest weakness for the second time in her life; the regrets of his family. She remembered the story of the sister that had been tortured by Muggles and the vengeful acts of their father. She knew of the accident that resulted in the girl killing their mother and the fight between Dumbledore, his younger brother, and the future dark wizard, Grindelwald, during which Dumbledore was convince he cast the Killing Curse that had ended his sister's life.

Every time it was brought up she could see the remorse and pain in Dumbledore's blue eyes. She wished he didn't harbor such a terrible thing; he'd more than made up for it in her mind.

"You can only beat yourself up for so long," Elle said quietly, hoping to be some comfort to the man who had had an enormous impact on her life. She had learned long ago that if she needed anything at all he would be there for her to turn to. He would be there for anyone; it was the Gryffindor in him, she thought with a small smile. "But you put the ring on because you were tempted?"

"Yes, I wanted to bring them back in order to apologize. I wish they knew how much I loved them and that I am so very sorry," he whispered.

"They know," Elle told him confidently and he smiled wider than he had since they had begun their discussion.

"As for your first question; I haven't gotten it treated because it is incurable," the headmaster stated, his voice tired and his face showed concern for how the teen in front of him would react.

"W… What do you mean, 'incurable,'" Elle stuttered.

"What I mean is I cannot rid myself of the effects of the curse. Professor Snape has been able to slow it significantly, but it will continue to spread and I will fall victim to it," he tried to say it as gently as possible.

Tears sprung to her green eyes immediately and her chin began to quiver. Albus Dumbledore was an important figure in her life. He was her teacher, her confidant; he was a friend. Albus Dumbledore was the closest thing to a father she would ever know.

"You… I… But… What will happen?" her words were almost inaudible; tears were openly cascading from her face now; dripping onto her hands and desk. They came faster and harder than any before, she had never experience a pain so acute.

"I will not perish from this curse, however," the elderly wizard pushed through the last bit of information he had for her. "I have come to learn of a plan that Lord Voldemort has put into action. He was given someone the job of finally ending me."

A sob wretched itself from Elle's throat that sounded like, "Who?"

"Lord Voldemort has bestowed this task upon one who does not want it. He is blackmailing them into doing it, he will kill innocent people if it is not completed," he told her.

"WHO?" The pain in her voice was so deep that he could not put off telling her any longer.

"Draco Malfoy," he whispered, half hoping she wouldn't hear him.

Elle began to sob in earnest then. She knew; she knew what was going to happen. She began to shake her head frantically.

"I can…" she started.

"No, you can't stop this," Dumbledore said in the voice he used when he didn't wish to be contradicted. "I cannot let Draco Malfoy die for failing to kill me when I am already dying. The world would only lose more people than absolutely necessary. There is one thing I must ask you to do for me."

Shaking her head, Elle asked, "What?"

"I need you to complete what Draco has been assigned should he not be able to, and I hope that he is not," Dumbledore requested.

"You want me to k… kill you? You want Malfoy to fail so that I have to kill you?" her voice was raising with every word.

"Yes," he said as if it were the simplest thing he had ever taught her.

"WHY? IT'S HIS TASK, NOT MINE! LET HIM DO IT!" she thundered, jumping from her chair in anger. "WHY MY SOUL? WHY SHOULD I BE THE ONE TO SHREAD MY SOUL?"

Dumbledore took her in for a moment, but finally responded when she looked ready to scream some more, "I do not believe your soul will become tarnished by my death. It will not be murder for I have asked you to do it. Draco is very lost and scared. He is surrounded by darkness; I think this may be his only way out."

This calmed Elle only slightly, "Why should I care about what happens to Malfoy, he's nothing but a prick."

"Ah, I see your older brother has indeed rubbed off on you," Dumbledore sounded very near amused.

"I have my own opinions!" Elle defended.

"And what are they?" he was serious again in a heartbeat, challenging her like he always did. "Do you think Draco is what he displays at school? Do you think he is dark like his father? Do you think he wishes all the things Lord Voldemort does? Or do you think there's a possibility that he's stuck fighting for a side he wants nothing to do with? Do you think he has the capability to be good?"

"I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW HIM!" she shrieked, letting her head fall and her hair hide her face. Her tears were still falling; her eyes were swollen and burning.

She had never hated Draco; she had never been interested in him at all until their strange meetings this year. And then she remembered the indecipherable pain in his eyes and how he had talked to her on the train. She forced her mind back through the years and saw nothing that should condemn him to death. But would she step in and save him if the time came?

Her decision made and her mind set she stifled her tears and whipped them away. She looked up at Albus Dumbledore and he smiled.

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**Poor Elle, right? =( Review if you feel bad. Next chapter some Slytherin v. Gryffindor violence? I think there might be. lol Huge thanks to all those who have reviewed so far. And super huge thanks to WhatsGoingOn! She made me a banner. =) http:/ www. flickr. com/ photos/ 49750863N06/ 5334775913/ in/ photostream/ to see it copy link into browser and remove spaces. =)**


	7. Unattainable

**Disclaimer: I own a pillow pet, a N64 (for "Pokemon Stadium" tournaments), and too many college text books. _Harry Potter_, however, belongs to J.K. Rowling (duh). **

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It had been a few weeks since Dumbledore had told Elle of his imminent death and Harry had been spending almost as much time with Dumbledore as she was. He would come to her after every one of his meetings and tell her what he had found out. His other friends, Ron and Hermione, listened raptly but Elle let her mind wander; she already knew everything Dumbledore was telling him and more.

Harry had gotten back to Gryffindor tower too late last night to update his friends on his meeting so he had gathered them together, away from people who may be able to eavesdrop, at their table during breakfast. Elle was agitated at him for pulling her away from her plate before she was finished and was openly ignoring him this time.

She was watching Draco Malfoy, as she often did now. He sat alone save Pansy Parkinson, who seemed to be trying to have a conversation with him, and looked extremely irritated. As much as she had been trying to observe Draco she had been putting just as much effort into avoiding him, going as far as skipping her Prefect duties; seeing as she got partnered with him very often. She half regretted not making him the person she wouldn't partner with.

Elle hadn't been trying to be covert about her scrutiny of him but he still managed to surprise her when he looked up and straight into her eyes. She blushed as she saw him stand abruptly from his seat and walk in her direction. She panicked, grabbing her backpack and a piece of toast she moved to leave the table before he could reach her. Walking as fast as she could without making it look silly she tried to rush out of the Great Hall.

She felt his hand grasp her wrist and he pulled her to a halt. She closed her eyes and refused to move hoping he would let her go. He did just the opposite. Draco swung her around gently so that she was facing him and cleared his throat. Elle winced and opened one eye a small amount to peak at him. Then realizing how ridiculous she probably looked she opened her eyes fully, but averted them so that she wasn't meeting his eyes.

"Are you ever going to preform your duties?" he asked, softly so the conversation stayed between them.

Elle gasped and her eyes meet his out of their own accord. For a second she had thought he knew what Dumbledore had requested of her. "What?" she replied quite stupidly.

"Your Prefect duties? We're paired together, but you have yet to show up once," he said slowly.

"Oh, umm. I guess?" Elle mumbled as she started to attempt to back away.

"You're going to show up tonight them?" he asked, his tired eyes searching hers.

"Mhmm, I'll be there," she was about to walk away when Harry stepped up beside her.

"Why were you manhandling my sister?" he demanded, his green eyes flashed with anger.

"I was doing no such thing, Potter," Draco addressed him icily. "We needed to discuss our Prefect duties."

"She obviously didn't want to talk to you," Harry growled lowly. "If I ever see you touch her again you're going to regret it."

"Oh, really, Potter?" Draco sneered. Both boys seemed to have completely forgotten Elle was standing there. "What could you do to me?"

"You don't want to find out, Malfoy," Harry was getting angrier by the second.

"I think I'll just be going now," Elle tried to excuse herself, but Pansy was suddenly blocking her way.

"Move Parkinson." Elle demanded.

"Come on, Draco," Pansy simpered, ignoring Elle. "Let's go to class. No reason to stand around chatting with the filthy Potter orphans."

Elle's mouth dropped and Harry's attention was pulled from Draco who was now looking as though he couldn't breathe. The entire hall went quite; no one had ever seen Elle and Harry Potter at a complete loss for words. But the siblings just stood there until Pansy said, "Move along mutts. Go back to your Mudbloods and blood traitors."

Elle's face seemed to darken and she took a step closer to Pansy, "You watch your stupid little mouth, Parkinson. The only mutt around here is your pug-looking self."

"Oh, shut up, Potter. No one cares what you have to say anymore," Pansy waved a hand as if to dismiss Elle. "You'll be dead soon anyways. Just like your brother and the rest of the Mudbloods and the entire filthy Weasel family."

"Parkinson, no one asked you to get involved," Draco snapped trying to pull Pansy away from the two Potters who looked ready to attack. Harry was standing, wand at his side, and an arm outstretched in front of Elle who kept trying to advance further towards Pansy, her wand drawn and half raised.

"Sod off, Parkinson," Harry snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about."  
"Oh, don't I? I know your parents are dead and your godfather is now too. Only an idiot wouldn't be able to see that your friends drop dead all the time. You were with Cedric. Stupid little Elle must be next, I'm sure the Dark Lord will enjoy killing her. And then your little Mudblood, you know how he hates them. Then the blood traitors, just for good measure."

Elle had managed to wrestle her way from behind Harry's arm and had her wand directed at Pansy's chest and was moving closer to her. She had a spell on her lips and was just about to utter in when Pansy made a horrible screeching sound and Elle's wand went flying.

Momentarily Elle tried to look around for her wand but couldn't see it through the crowd of onlookers that had formed a circle around them. Slytherins standing behind Pansy and the Gryffindors along with a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stood near Elle and Harry.

Looking back at Pansy Elle could see her pug face gloating, thinking she had bested the unbeatable Elle Potter. "You're both so weak and incompetent. No wonder everyone has to die for you. You know whose next Elle? Your precious Dumbledore," Pansy started to cackle along with many of the Slytherin bystanders.

Elle felt the rage begin to stir in the pit of her stomach. She tried for a moment to calm herself but then noticed Pansy still laughing and clinging to Draco who had turned a sickly green color and was trying to get away from the crowd but not having any luck because of Pansy.

"Who will love you once he's dead, Potter?" She laughed at herself again and Draco was staring at her his face frozen somewhere between rage and horror.

Elle thought she heard Harry snap something back at the Slytherin girl, but never heard it clearly. Wand forgotten, she hurled herself at Pansy, pulling her fist back and driving it into her face with all her might. The only thing Elle saw was Pansy's head swinging to the side from the strength of her blow, her grip on Draco finally broken as she fell to the floor. Elle had heard the loud snapping sound of Pansy's jaw breaking and the thud of her skull connecting with the floor.

Suddenly no one knew what was going on any longer. Students on both sides rushed forwards; Slytherins to retaliate on Elle and Gryffindors to pull Slytherins off of her. It was total chaos. Fists were flying and Elle had lost all recollection of who she was actually fighting with. All around her bodies pushed up against her and random hands hit and pulled at her. She saw Pansy get up and lunge for her in time to defend herself by tackling her to the ground and hitting her square in the face again, causing blood to begin to flow freely from her nose and mouth.

Then just as suddenly arms wrapped around her and pulled her off Pansy, she recognized the shock on Pansy's face as the person hauled her away from the fight. She heard teachers yelling and restoring order. Her eyes found Harry and Ron being pulled off of Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione was standing in the middle of the area where the fight had broken out looking shell-shocked. Then Elle saw Luna; still in a headlock and grappling confusedly with Millicent Bulstrode. Struggling against the person who held her she tried to get to her best friend.

"Let go of Lovegood!" the voice of the person holding her yelled, his tone threatening.

Finally Elle looked over her shoulder and came face to face with Draco. "Let me go!" she began to demand.

"Not until the teachers get it settled," he snapped at her. "Someone will try to attack you again."

"And you're keeping them from doing it now?" she scoffed, turning her head back around to watch small scuffles continue to break out when a Slytherin thought a teacher wasn't looking.

"I am," was all he said as Luna stumbled up to Elle looking like she was near tears and fairly confused.

"I just tried to get to you," she whispered. "I just wanted to see if you were alright. And then people started hitting me."

Elle looked at her friend and the remorse began to set in, she had started a huge fight and Luna had gotten hurt just trying to make sure she was okay. "I'm sorry, Lu," Elle replied, dropping her gaze to the floor. She felt Draco's arms tighten around her slightly before they relaxed.

"She shouldn't have said those things," Draco's voice was hard, but surprisingly comforting. Elle just nodded and let her body slump against his.

"PREFECTS!" she looked up as McGonagall screamed, the fights had finally all stopped and the teachers were now in the middle of the circle glaring at the students.

"PREFECTS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE MODEL STUDENTS. AND HERE YOU'RE STARTING PETTY FIGHTS AND HALF THE SCHOOL GETS INVOLVED!" She looked like she was shaking. "Since I can't give half the school detention all the houses will be deducted all their points. Everyone is at zero! We're supposed to be practicing unity!"

Elle couldn't stand it any longer and she finally pulled herself out of Draco's grasp. She walked into the center of the room where the still irate McGonagall stood, glaring at her as she approached.

"It was my fault, Professor. I lost my temper," Elle said. She kept her gaze directed at the floor looking as regretful as possible.

Professor McGonagall regarded Elle with her sharp eyes and nodded her head curtly, "Thank you for taking the blame. Instead of your normal Prefect duties you will serve detention, to be supervised by your partner. Mr. Malfoy, I believe?"

"Y… Yes, but Professor, shouldn't I serve them with you?" Elle asked. She wanted to continue avoiding Draco, even if he had been helpful just now. She didn't want to spend time with the man she knew was being forced into plotting her mentor's death.

"Typically, Miss Potter, you would. However, the headmaster is away currently and therefore I, and the other professors, need to attend to the rest of the school," McGonagall stated simply. "You will have a detention to be served this evening during the time you and Mr. Malfoy would normally be patrolling."

Elle didn't dare to argue with the older woman anymore, so she turned and exited the hall with the rest of the student body filtering out and to their classes behind her. Trudging through the crowded halls she received pats on the back from many Gryffindors who had been glad of the excuse she had presented to take out all their pent up anger at the Slytherins out on the objects of their disdain.

Attempting to make the day as long as possible she sat at dinner and listened to her brother rant about Malfoy and explain a bit about what Dumbledore had told him. Not once did she let her eyes wander to the blonde who was conspicuously watching her; as he always did.

"Dumbledore told me that he wants me to get to know Slughorn," Harry was saying. "And that he would probably try to 'collect' us."

"Collect us?" Elle stared at him as if he'd gone mad. "That sounds unpleasant."

"I agree, but Dumbledore said we should let him. I've got to try and get that memory from him remember?" Harry said, his mouth half full as he shoveled food in. Beside him Ron had made himself entirely unable to speak around the amount of food he was chewing. Hermione was watching her two best friends, looking appalled at their table manners. Elle took a minute to revel in the normalcy of the moment, and she was thankful that her brother did not have to bear the burden she currently was, she was glad he could enjoy his year here.

"Malfoy has been acting really strange lately," Harry said suddenly, locking gazes with the identical green eyes of his younger sister. "Why did he pull you out of that fight?"

"Probably because he didn't want her pummeling that pug, Pansy," Ron managed to get out around the wad of food he was shoving at his face.

Elle scrunched her nose at Harry and said, "He was just doing his duty as Prefect."

She was trying to act as dismissive about Draco as possible, so that her brother would drop the line of conversation. In all honesty she was just as confused as to why Draco had pulled her out of the fight and held her so that no one would try to attack her again. She was puzzled by Draco's seemingly sudden interest in her. In all their previous years she had little to no interaction with him, but now he was a constant presence in her life; popping up all the time and telling her to keep safe and then actually putting effort into keeping her safe himself. It was disarming and she grew more and more confused by him every day. All she really wanted was to hate him, but it seemed to her as if that may turn out to be the least likely outcome.

"There are things other than that, though," Harry pushed on, not dropping it at all. "Every time I check the Marauder's Map he's lurking about the seventh floor, and remember how he used to roll his sleeves up to his elbows? He doesn't do that anymore."

"What are you playing at, Harry?" Elle asked, hoping he wasn't stumbling in the direction she thought he was.

"He's a Death Eater," Harry whispered dramatically.

"You haven't been sleeping enough, have you? You're off your rocker. Why would Voldemort want to have Draco and his father following him around like love sick puppies? Even Voldemort is intelligent enough to realize one Malfoy toy is more than one would ever want." Elle asked, trying to look shocked at his accusation.

"I've been sleeping fine!" Harry defended. "Think about it, Elle. He's probably been chosen to try and get inside information about Hogwarts for Voldemort. And he's been branded with the Dark Mark, that's why he doesn't roll his sleeves up anymore. It makes sense!"

"You're basing this theory off of the fact that he doesn't push his sleeves up anymore? Harry, you've got to quit stalking Malfoy," Elle sniggered at him.

"I am not stalking him!" Harry nearly yelled, getting frustrated with his sister. "He's on the other side and you just act all cozy with him!"

"I do not! I barely even talk to him!" She defended.

"He stares at you all the time. He pulls you out of a fight. And I heard about how he acted on the Hogwarts Express! He wants information. He knows Dumbledore trusts you! He's probably trying to read your mind," Harry guessed.

"Guess I'll have to be extra careful during my detention with him tonight," Elle laughed.

"You have detention with him?" Harry almost yelled.

"Yeah, right after we finish dinner," Elle said. She knew nothing good was going to come of Harry's new suspicion of Draco.

"I'll come check on you half way through," Harry told her with a definitive nod.

"You know that isn't necessary; I can handle him myself. He really is never that unpleasant to me," Elle said shrugging her shoulders and she began to gather her things to meet up with Draco for her detention.

"Whish is strange, Elle!" Harry shouted at his sister's back as she walked to where Draco was waiting for her at the entrance to the Great Hall. Turning she waved and stuck her tongue out at Harry before she waltzed out of the room, Draco a few feet behind her.

"So, where are we going to do this detention?" She asked, having to look up at Draco while he was standing so close in order to make their eyes meet.

Rolling his eyes Draco motioned for her to follow him. Elle did as he asked, a perturbed look on her face as she noticed he was leading her outside. Plucking her heavy backpack from her he walked beside her, closer than what he typically would have. Elle was growing more curious by the minuet as to where they were going and why he'd taken her bag.

"Why are we going out onto the grounds? It's going to be dark soon. We're not going into the Forbidden Forest are we? There are these enormous spiders in there that Hagrid is friends with, but they aren't exactly very pleasant. They're really rather hostile actually. And Grawp is in there and he's a bit too friendly. Then centaur herd may still be bit riled up after what happened last year too," Elle rambled mainly seeking to fill the silence and ease her own nerves.

"What in Merlin's pockets are you going on about?" Draco asked, looking down at her. For a second Elle thought he had been smiling.

"We upset the centaurs a little last year," Elle laughed while tugging on her hair to occupy her hands.

"Of course you did," Draco snickered, guiding them in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Elle huffed, almost jogging to keep up with his long strides.

"It means you and your brother are constantly sticking your noses into every dangerous situation imaginable," Draco said gruffly, looking at her in an almost upset fashion. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Please, by centaurs? I don't think so. If Harry or I get killed it'll be by a Death Eater," it slipped out of Elle's mouth so fast she barely even realized she said it. She had grown oddly comfortable in her conversation with Draco.

Draco didn't respond, and Elle barely noticed the awkward twitch of his had as it had seemed to reach for her. He quickened his pace and Elle rushed after him, following him into the stands where he abruptly sat down, sitting Elle's bag on the bench before him. She stood staring at him, baffled, for several minutes. He seemed angry and was hunched over, his elbows on his knees as he stared at his hands. Finally reining in his emotions he looked up at the stunned girl and said, "I don't care about you having detention, so we'll just bide our time out here until we can go in."

"What?" Elle asked.

"We're just going to sit here until time is up. You don't have to do anything as punishment; unless you count spending time with me as punishment," Draco said lowly.

"I don't," Elle said plopping down next to Draco. They sat in silence regarding one another until Elle got bored.

"I've had much worse detentions," Elle stated examining her left hand. The scars left in her own swirly handwriting were still visible, 'I must not believe my brother's lies.' "Are you playing Quidditch this year?" she asked in order to distract her own thoughts.

"No, I haven't got enough time," Draco replied, shocked she was still trying to keep up a conversation with him.

"Harry is trying to convince me to try out," Elle laughed.

"Are you going to?" Draco looked at her like he thought it might be a bad idea.

"I'm not sure. I'm a fair flyer," Elle mused looking out at the pitch.

"It's a rough sport, you could get hurt," Draco said quickly.

"Why are you constantly talking about me getting hurt?" Elle cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're tiny. Very easily hurt. Fragile looking," Draco mumbled.

"I am not fragile!" Elle yelled, offended. "Why do you care anyways, Malfoy?"

"Since when do you call me by my last name?" he inquired quietly.

"Since you insulted me!"

"I did not insult you!"  
"You did!"

"It was not my intention," Draco sighed, leaning back to rest against the bench behind him. Elle swiveled so that she was facing him, crossing her legs and continuing to glare at him.

"You can quit giving me the death glare at any point. I apologized," Draco muttered.

"Why didn't you plan something awful for me to do tonight?" she wondered, softening her face.

"Because I don't dislike you," Draco stated, as if it were obvious.

"And why not?" Elle challenged.

"Do you always ask so many questions?" Draco deflected.

"Always," Elle asserted. "Do you always avoid so many questions?"

"No. But sometimes it's for the best," he replied.

"And why is that?" Elle demanded leaning closer to Draco.

"What is your favorite color?" he asked her.

"Yellow," Elle told him, giving up on getting answers from him.

"Why?"

"Because it isn't dark. I have too much darkness in my life," she replied honestly.

"Favorite subject?" Draco's steel eyes were boring into hers, as they always did when she allowed their eyes meet.

"Divination, because I get to make it all up," Elle giggled. "The more gruesome ways I kill myself off the better my marks. And I can predict the most ridiculous things and she just goes with it. It's entertaining."

"Favorite food?" he asked.

Elle didn't know why she was letting him quiz her about her life, but didn't refuse to answer any of his questions. She told him the truth and watched as his face either scrunched in confusion at her answers or laughed with her at amusing anecdotes she told about her life. It was probably the most peculiar night Elle had ever had. Sitting alone with Draco Malfoy: Death Eater, tormentor to her brother and assigned assassin of her favorite professor, she wasn't scared. She felt happy, more so than she had in quite some time. It was the first time in weeks that she felt carefree, and it boggled her mind. She couldn't work out why she felt safe around the man who was fighting, whether unwillingly or not, for everything she was preparing to die to rid the world of.

"What's with the bracelet?" Draco motioned to the charm bracelet that hadn't left her wrist since she had received it on her birthday.

"I got it from the Weasleys on my birthday, which is on August 1st; so don't ask. I have a charm each from the twins and one from my godfather, Professor Lupin," she explained.

"Harry didn't get you a charm?" he asked, sneering as he said the boy's name.

"Why do you hate Harry still?" she wondered, but she was suddenly distracted by the approach of the aforementioned boy and did not hear him reply, "He makes you unattainable."

"What are you doing out here?" Harry asked roughly.

Sighing Elle turned away from Draco to reassure her brother she was fine, "Nothing, this is my detention."

"It looks like a date," Harry was getting angry.

"Excuse me?" Elle gaped.

"It looks like you're on a date!" Harry exclaimed, gesturing around.

"At the Quidditch pitch? How romantic of you Draco!" Elle fake gushed, grabbing onto the Slytherin beside her and laying her head on his shoulder.

"I try," Draco smirked, enjoying watching Harry getting messed with while not having to do it himself.

"What are you trying, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, clenching his fists.

"I'm not trying anything, Potter. I just didn't feel the need to punish Elle for punching Parkinson; it's something I've wanted to see for a long time," Draco said coolly.

Harry stood fuming glaring at his sibling, who was still pretend cuddling with Malfoy. He turned his eyes to the boy and was disconcerted by what he saw. While Elle's eyes were still on Harry, Malfoy had his locked on Elle as if she were the only thing in the world. His normally icy eyes had a look that would have left anyone reeling after seeing it directed at Harry Potter's little sister from his arch nemesis. Draco Malfoy was staring at her wistfully, as though she was his deepest desire, his most sought after dream, as if she were something precious that he held very dear.

Harry couldn't find anything more to say. He still thought Malfoy was up to something, but was beginning to doubt it involved Elle getting harmed in any way. Shaking his head he turned and stomped away knowing Elle would be fine while she was with Draco, but not sure how he felt about the knowledge.

Elle watched the retreating from of her brother until she couldn't see him anymore. She looked up at Draco then, not realizing that she was still so close to him. His eyes sought hers and they frightened Elle terribly. She had never seen such emotions in someone, she didn't know exactly what they were but she had a feeling they were all directed towards her. She was frozen by him, unable to break contact and place the proper amount of distance between them.

Elle watched as his eyes flitted back and forth over her face; they moved slowly, taking in every freckle across her nose and cheeks, every shade of dark red and brown in her unique auburn bangs, the shimmering of gold that ringed her green eyes that you could only see when you were as close as Draco was. He took in as much as he could, learning and memorizing her. The look in his eyes was making her heart tremble. Elle found herself repeating his actions. She let her eyes move from his, so liquid silver and charcoal in the center, to his straight nose and defined square chin. They stared at each other until Elle was sure she knew his face better than any other, but she still could not pull away from him and he never had the intention of breaking their contact.

Lifting her hand Elle touched her cool fingertips underneath his eyes, where the signs of his stress were evident. She asked him, "Why are you so stressed?"

She had accidentally broken the spell and he couldn't hold her gaze any longer. He did not move to separate them, but he turned his gaze skyward as he answered, "I wish I could tell you. But it is mine to handle alone."

"Draco," She whispered and she could feel his chest tighten under her hand. "Asking for help does not make you weak."

"There is no one that could help me," He told her, shaking his head and causing his blonde hair to fall into his eyes.

"I could," Elle began, but he cut her off.

"I won't be the one to put you in danger," Draco seethed.

"I'm in danger because of every breath I take, because I was born to The Boy Who Lived," Elle said defiantly. "A bit more danger would barley be noticeable."

Shaking his head, Draco responded, "That doesn't mean anything. You could hide."

"I can't," Elle sighed, as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees again. She moved with him; desperate for some reason to keep contact with him, she placed a hand around his upper arm and the other on his back.

"Why?" Draco choked.

"There are some questions best left unanswered," Elle gave him his own reasoning.

Draco never responded to her. She had let him keep his secrets and he would let her have hers.

"Can I ask you a question?" Elle said.

"Anything," Draco breathed.

"Why are you concerned about me?" She wondered.

Draco returned his gaze to her then and whispered, "I can't tell you that."

"Why?" Elle demanded softly.

"It's complicated," Draco supplied, unhelpfully.

"Most things are," Elle said. "But I think I could understand."

"Hopefully someday," he mumbled.

"I don't understand what you mean," Elle grumbled.

"We're at war," he stated, as if it made everything that he had said clear.

"I'm aware," she sniffed, rolling her eyes.

"Hopefully someday we won't be, and I'll still be alive. Then I'll tell you, if you don't hate me," He said getting up. The sun was just beginning to set and he wanted them in the castle before dark.

Walking back to the castle Elle stayed silent. She was mulling over what Draco had said, trying to make sense of him and what he wanted from her. As they were about to go their separate ways Elle reached out and grabbed Draco's hand, halting him and forcing him to look at her.

"There are things you do not know. Trust that everything will be okay and it will be. I've tried to hate you Draco; and I have failed. Whenever you're willing to explain whatever you were talking about I'll be there to listen. This war won't claim us," Elle smiled at the shocked look on his face, and turned and began skipping off towards the Gryffindor tower.

Draco stood and watched her for as long as possible, the tugging sensation in his heart returning, as always when she wasn't near him.

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**I'm too sick to ask for reviews... No, no, I'm not. Please review. =) WhatsGoingOn made another beautiful banner for me, it's linked in my profile. I'd link it here... But, if I'm honest, I'm just too lazy right now. I was almost too lazy to put this out, but I figured it had been awhile since my last update. =) Anyways, thank you too all of my reviewers, and the readers who don't. =p**


	8. Dissappointing Harry

**Disclaimer: We all know I don't get paid for this. =( Total bummer.**

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A disgusted look was plastered across Elle's face as she stared down at the outlandish invitation in her hands. Looking over at Harry and Hermione, who had also received the green envelope in the morning post, she tossed it on the table and slammed her elbow down, resting her chin in her hand.

"The things we do for Dumbledore," she sighed. "I don't want to be in the Slug Club. What a horrid name."

"I'm sure it won't be too bad," Hermione said, attempting to cheer the Potter siblings who had been hoping the invitation would never come.

"Why didn't I get one?" Ron blurted, snatching up Elle's discarded invite.

"You can go for me," Elle offered, hopefully.

"Elle, Dumbledore told us to go. Slughorn won't be happy unless he gets the both of us," Harry reminded.

"I know, I know," she huffed. She peered around the hall in search of others who had been delivered the green notice. There weren't many, apparently Slughorn was fairly picky.

"It says here the first meeting is tonight. We're to go to his office for dinner," Hermione said, reading over the instructions.

Elle groaned and Harry jabbed at her with a fork. She maneuvered as far away from him as possible on the crowded bench, allowing room for someone to slip in-between her and her brother, which Colin took advantage of right away.

Slumping her shoulders and looking around uncomfortably, she eyed Harry, who was currently eating the last of her breakfast off her plate. Normally Harry would intercept Colin before he could pull Elle into an awkward conversation, but this time he just watched on, laughing at her predicament.

Standing up before Colin had the chance to greet her she walked so she was standing behind her brother before she said, "Good luck at Slug Club by yourself."

"WHAT? You have to go!" But by the time Harry had turned around to look at her she had begun a sprint towards the exit.

He took off after her, catching her quickly and hoisting her over his shoulder so that her torso was dangling down his back he began to haul her out of the Great Hall in order to force her into submission. She was pounding on his back, demanding he let her go, and struggling awkwardly to reach for the wand she had stashed in her boot.

"And there's a Christmas party before break!" Hermione yelled loud enough so they would hear. "You have to bring a date!"

Both Potters froze, Elle in the midst of trying to punch Harry in the face, and looked around at her horrified. Harry lost his grip on Elle and she tumbled to the floor. Collecting herself she glared at Harry who was beginning to look nauseous.

"There isn't anyone I want to go with," He whispered, looking around at the faces of all the girls who were trying to get his attention.

Elle, however, found herself searching out the face of Draco Malfoy. He was seated, watching the siblings like the rest of the school. His face looked antagonized and raged all at the same time. Shaking off the pull she'd felt to look at him Elle turned on her heel and marched out of the Great Hall.

"I've got Advanced Incantations and Spells with Dumbledore," Elle told Harry, who had looked like he was going to follow her. "Ignore them and we'll figure out a date for you later."

The trek to the seventh floor was long and highly annoying for Elle. News spread like wild fire about the famous Potters needing dates to Slughorn's Christmas party and boys weren't being shy about attempting to talk to her. She managed to dodge all of their requests in a polite manner, which she was proud of.

Once she reached the corridor her classroom was in she was able to meander about much more freely and she took her time strolling toward the door, behind which Professor Dumbledore would be waiting for her.

"Hello, Professor!" Elle greeted while sitting down upon the desk in the first row, kicking her legs back and forth in front of her.

"Good morning, Elle. I trust you've been staying out of trouble after your detention?" Dumbledore said; greeting her in return, chuckling slightly.

"Trying my hardest, Headmaster," she grinned.

"I'm glad to hear it," his blue eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"What are we doing today?" Elle asked, eager to learn from the aged wizard.

"Before we begin with the lesson I would like to present a topic for your consideration," Dumbledore explained.

"What is it?" the young girl wondered.

"It is my opinion that now would be the opportune time to let your brother in on your prophecy," he told her.

"What? Why now?" Elle was taken aback by the professor's request.

"I think, dear child, that you have kept him in the dark for long enough. While I understand you do not want the weight of what you and I have deciphered it to mean weighing heavily on his shoulders I think he is ready," the headmaster stated.

"Are you sure?" Elle wanted nothing more than for him to change his mind.

"Quite sure," he responded. "The time for open warfare may be coming much sooner than we anticipated and I think though some parts of your prophecy will be difficult for Harry to come to terms with it will inevitably ease some of his worries should you two be separated for any long duration of time."

"Do you think that that will happen, Professor? Do you really think we'll be separated?" Elle asked quietly. The thought of leaving her brother and each of them having to fend for themselves was foreign to her; they had not been apart for longer than a day since Elle was born, excluding Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Remembering back to that time Elle wondered if she would be able to survive such a thing again. Living with the Dursleys alone had been torture. She was treated as a slave and beaten up by Dudley on an almost daily basis. She had never told Harry any of this while he was away; fearing he'd come back and they'd lose the chance of knowing the world they had truly been meant for.

"There is a large possibility. But let us not worry over such things now; it is time we began your lesson for the day," Dumbledore said, pulling his wand from the inside of his robes and vanishing all the furniture in the room.

"What are we learning today?" Elle muttered, picking herself up from the floor, where she had fallen when the headmaster vanished the desk she had been perched upon.

"Today we will be attempting an old piece of magic that I stumbled across while reading a book of outdated spells," he explained.

"Why bother if it's outdated?" she said, quirking her head to the side.

"I believe that it may come in handy someday," Dumbledore said. This didn't impress Elle much; she was used to him believing all sorts of ridiculous things had the potential to come in handy. Just last year he had insisted she perfected a charm that enabled her to animate trees so they could move around throughout the ground and sway in the most abnormal fashions. Once she had mastered it, charming the entirety of the Forbidden Forest's trees to line dance, she had never used it again.

"It is an old Estonian magic, created by a wizard named Paavo over two hundred years ago. Paavo never told anyone of his magic and it was not discovered until after his death, when instructions were found scrawled on the walls of his home. It is an old summoning charm," Dumbledore explained as he began writing on the board in a language Elle didn't recognize. "This charm can be used to summon one person to another; no matter where they are, how much distance is in between them, or if the one being summonsed has ever seen the place in which the other is."

"So it's sort of a mixture of the _accio_ charm and apparition," Elle observed.

"It incorporates many of the principals of those spells, yes," Dumbledore agreed.

"It sounds strangely similar to how Voldemort uses the Dark Mark to summons the Death Eaters," she mused, beginning to grow weary of the spell. "Is this how Voldemort thought that up?"

"I had the same doubts when I first read of Paavo's spell. But there are significant differences that lead me to assume that Lord Voldemort's Dark Mark and Paavo's summons are very different; plus I do not believe Lord Voldemort would have ever taken the time to read of Estonian wizards, they would have seemed insignificant to him."

"What are the differences?" Elle asked, speculatively.

"There are several. The one I find the most comforting is that both participants need to consider each other equals and must not wish each other harm. Another difference is the activation of the charm. In order for the Death Eaters to know Lord Voldemort requires them he brands them with a mark, a painful process in and of itself, which will then burn when he wishes them to come. Paavo's summoning is more like a binding spell and will leave no marks upon you or I. Nor will it burn when being activated," Dumbledore explained.

"How does it work?" he had finally managed to get Elle interested.

"We will perform a binding ceremony. I have written what we will need to say on the board," the elderly headmaster began.

"Can't read that," Elle grumbled pointing at the board and looking at him as if he was as crazy as Ron was always claiming he was.

"That's because it is written in Estonian," Dumbledore told her as though it was obvious. "We will go over the meaning in its translated form, but it will need to be done in the native language in order for it to work properly. As I was saying; during the ceremony as we are saying the incantation we will present our wands to each other, so that we are holding them side by side. I do not know exactly what will happen, so it should be a delightful surprise."

"If this Paavo bloke had a clue what he was on about," she muttered, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Faith and patience, Elle," Dumbledore chastised in his typical fashion. "Now the incantation translates to, 'Child, come to me in time of need. I am old. I need your strength. My child, I pledge to give you my wisdom, my guidance. To you I will come.' 'Professor, come to me in time of need. I am young. I need your guidance. Professor, I pledge to give you my youth, my strength. To you I will come.' I had to change them from Paavo's original. He did not have a version meant for a professor and student, only for friends and family members."

"It'll work the same?" Elle asked cocking her head to the side as she stared up at her teacher.

After a seconds' hesitation Dumbledore replied, "Faith and patience, Elle."

Giggling at the uncertainty of her mentor Elle skipped closer to where he was standing and readied herself to begin the ritual. Professor Dumbledore pulled his wand from beneath his clothes and held it, palm facing up, in between himself and Elle. Repeating his action Elle pulled her wand from the back pocket of the jeans she wore, and mimicked his hand's position.

"How many times has Alastor told you and Harry not to store your wands in your back pockets?" Dumbledore asked the twinkle in his eyes brightening.

"Lost count," Elle shrugged.

For several minutes Elle and Dumbledore practiced saying the incantation in its native language. Elle was struggling with getting the pronunciation correct and was glaring fiercely anywhere other than at her professor. After a half hour of the headmaster correcting her and right before she began to grow truly bored with his tutelage Dumbledore declared them finally ready to proceed with the ceremony.

"_Laps, tulevad mulle aega vaja_," Dumbledore began. "_Ma olen vana. Ma vajan su tugevust. Mu laps, Ma luban teile minu tarkus, mu nõu. Teile ma tulen._"

Scrunching her face in concentration Elle replied, "_Õpetaja, tulevad mulle aega vaja. Olen noor. Ma vajan su nõu. Õpetaja, tõotan teile mu nooruses, mu tugevus. Teile ma tulen._"

The wands that were held out between the two as if in offering began to move towards one another until they were ripped from the hands of their wielders and were hovering in midair of their own accord. Slowly the wands separated and it appeared as though there was a silver web holding the two together. Once they were again in the same spot they had been when they were in their owners hands Elle and Dumbledore took them back into their grasps.

"What now?" Elle asked while she held her wand up to her face in order to examine it.

"Now we practice," Dumbledore replied. He flourished his arms and began to back up in order to put distance between himself and Elle. "Now; to activate the spell I am going to say your full name and concentrate on you appearing closer to me."

"Right," Elle said. "Is the transportation going to be painful?"

Dumbledore tilted his head towards her and shrugged, "I haven't the faintest idea."

"Oh fab," Elle grumbled. "If it does I'm going to turn you into a mouse and let Mrs. Norris chase you."

"Elle Violet Potter," Dumbledore said in response, closing he eyes to better concentrate on her moving from her current position to where he wanted her.

As the headmaster said her name Elle began to feel a sharp tugging sensation behind her heart. It felt similar to that caused by a Portkey, but at the same time remarkably different. Elle could feel the connection she had to the old man before her seemingly solidify in her chest and could sense the request to appear before him. She closed her eyes and mentally answered 'alright' to the tugging in her chest. Before she even had time to doubt their ability to pull the spell off without a hitch the first time she was slamming into a completely unsuspecting Dumbledore and they were tumbling into a heap on the classroom floor.

"Oof," Elle heard a gasp of air rush from Dumbledore's mouth as she scrabbled about wildly trying to right herself. "You are kneeing me in the chest, Elle."

"I think you concentrated a wee bit too hard, Professor. Or were you trying to use me as a projectile to knock yourself over?" Elle replied. She had finally managed to disentangle her boot from where it had gotten caught in the wizard's long, silver beard and was trying to help him back to his feet.

"I dare say I may have concentrated overzealously," the professor said. "Shall we try again? I think that maybe we won't need to say anything out loud."

"Yeah, alright," Elle said, looking at him speculatively and returning to her former place on the other side of the room.

This time Elle had no warning before the tug reclaimed her chest. She contemplated the feelings again and before letting them pull her through space towards Dumbledore she looked at the spot in front of him and concentrated her mind on landing near him instead of on him.

Unfortunately the second attempt ended worse for Elle than the first had. While she did not plow into Dumbledore and she did land in the spot they had been aiming for she was dropped from high in the air onto her back. The fall winded her and she lay on the floor glaring up at the bearded wizard who was leaning over her.

"It's painful," Elle seethed, internally debating on whether he would punish her for transfiguring him into a mouse.

"Months' worth of detention with Professor Snape if you attempt to feed me to Mrs. Norris," he chortled as Elle stumbled to her feet.

"Drat," Elle said. She glided back to her original position saying, "One more go Professor. I'll concentrate on landing upright."

Their time passed quickly, Elle getting more and more aggravated that she couldn't land on her feet while Dumbledore became more and more amused watching Elle stomp across the room screaming, "One more time!"

Elle left as soon as she heard the magical bell that signaled class change without even saying her farewells to Dumbledore. She was extremely aggravated and bleeding from her left knee, not matter how hard she had tried to land upright the force of the spell threw her off balance and one body part or another would get jammed into the floor. Limping down the hallway she spotted her brother crouched on all fours behind the armor of a knight.

"What in the name of Merlin's hat are you doing?" She practically yelled.

Harry jumped, spinning around and pulling her down behind the statue with him. He was waving his hands in an attempt to convince her to be quite and gesturing back and forth from the Marauder's Map that was lying, splayed out, on the floor in front of him and the corridor.

Looking over the map Elle noticed that they, and the retreating from of Dumbledore, were the only people currently on the seventh floor. She glanced at her brother quickly and made to stand up but was stopped by Harry grabbing onto her waist in order to keep her there.

"He's in the Room of Requirements," Harry whispered dramatically.

"Who? Voldemort?" Elle giggled.

"No! Not Voldemort! Be serious, Elle! It's Malfoy!" Harry glared at his little sister.

"Didn't I tell you to stop stalking Malfoy?" Elle asked, rising her eyebrow. "The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one, Harry."

"I do not have a problem!" he seethed.

"Are you sure about that, Potter?" a third voice intruded into their conversation.

Both kneeling Potters dove for the map that had been disregarded during their squabble. Elle managed to reach it first, sitting down on top on it, as Harry squished his body as close to his sister as humanly possible. They ended up extremely uncomfortable with Malfoy still staring down at them as if their idiotic antics didn't faze him in the slightest.

"Your wand is poking me," Harry hissed at Elle.

"Good, I can't breathe. Scoot over, you are squishing me!" Elle hissed back.

"What are you two doing?" Draco questioned.

"Slumber party!" Elle exclaimed the first thing that came to her mind.

"You're having a sleep over? In a corridor? With just the two of you? Behind a suit of armor?" Draco raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Best place to have a slumber party," Harry growled, glaring at Elle as if he was trying to set her on fire.

Elle smiled widely and looked between her brother and Draco before saying, "Good quality bonding time."

She punched Harry in the arm, marginally attempting to make it look like a show of camaraderie. Harry retaliated by shoving her into the armor, which went clattering to the floor.

"I'd love to stay and see the two of you get in trouble with Filtch, but I have to be going," Draco said before taking off down the hallway to avoid the wrath of the caretaker.

Harry and Elle rushed to gather themselves from the floor and get the map from beneath the rubble of the knight. Running down the hallway they checked the map to see where Filtch was; finding the seventh floor clear of him for the moment they made their way towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Blast-Ended Skrewt!" Elle gasped at the Fat Lady, causing the portrait to swing open.

They stumbled through the portrait hole and into the cozy Gryffindor common room. Harry rounded on his sister and shoved her onto the couch.

"Hey! Don't shove!" Elle protested.

"You ruined my cover!" Harry yelled.

"Maybe you should quit stalking Malfoy and I wouldn't have to worry about ruing your cover!" Elle retorted.

"A slumber party?" he asked throwing his body onto the couch beside Elle who shoved him away and crawled to the opposite side.

"I thought it was much better than 'On nothing, Draco. Harry here was just STALKING you!" Elle grumbled.

"I am not stalking him!" Harry defended.

"Oh. I hadn't noticed you trying to be friends with him. Is that what you're doing?" Elle asked sarcastically.

"I… No. Of course not," Harry said, refusing to meet his sister's eyes.

"Harry, quit obsessing over Malfoy," Elle said.

"He's a Death Eater!"

"Let it go!"

"Why? Why should I?"

Elle decided she probably wasn't getting through to Harry about it so decided to change topics. Shrugging and stretching out on the sofa so that her legs were propped in her brother's lap she asked, "So have you thought of any one you'd like to take to Slughorn's Christmas party?"

"I can only think of three people I wouldn't mind going with. And they're all friends," Harry replied.

"Who are they?" Elle asked knowing her brother only had four female friends he'd be willing to spend that much time with, if you were including Elle.

"Hermione," Harry began.

"She already has a date, Harry," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"What? Who?" Harry gapped.

"I'm not sure, but after Ron acted like a total git to her she was determined to find someone to take that would bug him," she explained.

"So my other options are Ginny and Luna," Harry said.

"Yep. Who do you want to go with?" Elle asked.

"Doesn't Ginny have a boyfriend or something?" Harry inquired, thinking over the options.

"She did. She was with Dean, but they broke up a week or so ago," Elle said.

"I… I think I'll ask Luna," he muttered.

"Oooh. You like Lu?" Elle asked, trying hard not to giggle. "I thought you said there wasn't anyone you wanted to ask?"

"What? She's just a friend!" Harry insisted. He was refusing to meet Elle's eyes.

"Then why not ask Gin? She'd love to go with you," Elle told him.

"I know," Harry replied, examining his hands and trying to push Elle's legs from his lap. "I just think, I just think I'd rather go with Luna. She's good company, you know? And Gin is more like a sister, lately."

"Hopefully Ginny won't be too upset," Elle said, worried for the girl who was much like a sister to her as well. "At least you won't have to deal with Ron trying to light your pants on fire every time you look at Gin."

Harry chuckled before sobering up. Elle noticed his shoulders stiffen as he asked, "How do I ask her? Do you think she'll say yes?"

"Just ask her. It's Lu, of course she'll say yes. Luna loves to be included, she'll be ecstatic—in her own 'Loony' way of course," Elle sat up and patted her older brother on the head.

"Who are you going to take?" Harry asked.

"Neville," Elle answered simply.

"Why?" her brother looked at her quizzically.

"Neville is a great friend and he'll understand that we're just friends better than anyone else would. It's not like I could ask Colin to go as just a friend; that would be a horrible night for me," Elle cringed thinking of the idea of taking Colin to Slughorn's party.

"He's a nice guy, though," Harry stated.

"Sure, he's a good friend. Or was. I just don't want to be his girlfriend. Ugh," she said, contorting her face to show her disgust.

"Maybe you going with Neville will get the point across?" Harry looked at her hopefully.

"Maybe," Elle said. It was obvious that Elle wasn't hopeful that her choice of a date would convince Colin she wasn't interested.

Elle got up from the couch then and trudged up the stairs to her dormitory to grab her backpack and change into her school robes. Once she was back downstairs she looked over at her brother who was still sitting on the couch looking like he was about to be sick.

"She'll say yes," Elle said, leaning over the back of the couch to hug him around the neck. "I'll see you back here before the dinner."

"What does one wear to a dinner party they don't want to go to?" Elle asked Hermione and Ginny who were both gathered in her room so they could help each other prepare for Slughorn's dinner.

"Just wear a black dress and some heels," Ginny advised as she finished pulling her own gold dress over her head.

"Simple and classy," Hermione said.

"This is way too much effort to put into a party I don't want to go to," Elle grumbled, stepping into a black dress she had pulled from her wardrobe.

Several moments later Elle, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione stepped into the enlarged office of Horace Slughorn. Taking in the room Elle noticed that Slughorn was seated at the head of a long table. Along the table were students from all of the houses, most from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harry led their party to the table, taking a seat next to Blaise Zabini. As the girls took their seats Slughorn stood from his seat and spread his arms in greeting.

"Ah, the rest of our Gryffindor friends have arrived at last. Harry and Elle Potter! It is enchanting to have you here tonight!"

"Good to be here, Professor," Harry replied politely, elbowing Elle in the ribs to ensure that she didn't ignore the potions master.

"Yes, so enchanting I can barely breathe," Elle said, rubbing her side and glowering at her older brother.

"We'll start dinner as soon as our last member arrives," Slughorn said, reclaiming his chair.

The door swung open and in strode the tall from of Draco Malfoy. He took the only seat left, across from Elle and next to the Carrow twins.

"Draco, my boy, good of you to come," Slughorn said. Draco's only response was to nod his head in the direction of the head of the table.

Slughorn looked thoroughly affronted and sputtered for a minute before saying, "Ah, yes. Dinner."

At his words there was a loud crack followed by the sounds of several feels scuttling towards the table. There were two house elves scurrying around the table, placing food on the table and plates in front of all the people seated at the table.

"So, Draco, how has your father's business been coming along?" Slughorn asked, sounding slightly awkward.

"He has been focusing on other matters lately, so he isn't having as big of hand in all of the details; though I hear it is still doing quite well," Draco answered.

The room grew quite after Draco's response, most gathered knew of Lucius' involvement in Voldemort's plans. Elle looked over at her brother to see him glaring at the Slytherin boy. Harry looked as though he was ready to jump Draco the next time he so much as opened his mouth. Placing her hand on his shoulder Elle attempted to gain his attention.

"Don't do anything stupid," she whispered.

"He just mentioned his Death Eater dad like it was normal," Harry argued.

"Harry, just clam down. You can't make a scene here; you need to get the memory!" Elle told him.

"I know. Fine, but if he does anything else…" Harry began.

"You can hex his face off, yeah, yeah. Now make nice and suck up to the Slug," Elle demanded, pushing Harry away from her.

"Professor," Harry said, in order to gain the attention of Slughorn from Cormac McLaggen. "How long have you known Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Ah, Harry. Yes, I've known our dear headmaster for quite a long time. I worked here at Hogwarts before your parents even attended," Slughorn said. "Your mother was a favorite of mine."

"Really, Professor?" Harry asked. He was always interested in learning more about their parents.

"Yes, yes. Quite a talented witch, she was; one of the best to ever set foot in Hogwarts. Though I hear she has been overshadowed by your own younger sister, here," Slughorn said. He nodded towards Elle.

"Yes, Elle is very talented," Harry laughed.

"Tell me, Elle, what is it you and the headmaster study in your private lessons," Slughorn requested, leaning towards Elle in an eager manner.

"Oh, this and that," Elle replied evasively.

"Come, surely they are not secret," Slughorn persisted.

"Actually…" Elle was cut off by Harry poking her in the side.

"Two years ago he taught her a spell that will put someone into a coma until the caster of the spell removes it," Harry supplied.

"It's great," Ginny said. "She used it on Pansy Parkinson."

"Refused to remove it for two weeks," Hermione added, attempting not to smile.

"It was so refreshing not to have Parkinson tromping about ranting about blood purity and how pretty she was," Elle made no effort to look ashamed of what she had done. "Worth the month of detention I had to serve with Snape."

Conversation flowed on like this all while dinner was being eaten. Elle and Harry managed to rid themselves of Slughorn's full attention after Elle finally began to refuse him any more information about her lessons with Dumbledore and after Harry had offended him by mentioning memories. He had settled his attention on Blaise and several other Slytherins for the time being.

They had been sitting in Slughorn's office for an hour and a half before Elle gave in to the searing of Draco's eyes on her face. She barely had time to take in his stressed features before Harry was shuffling his chair closer to her and whispering in her ear about finding a way to get Slughorn alone.

"That sounds creepy," Elle giggled.

"I'm serious. The quicker I get it the quicker we can stop coming to these boring get togethers," Harry mumbled.

"I am board out of my skull," Elle agreed, peering around Harry to see what Slughorn was doing.

Their scheming was cut off when Slughorn clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. He then said, "Now I know it's getting rather late, but I hope you'll stay and join me for a quick nightcap."

Hermione was about to protest to a professor giving students alcohol but Slughorn proceeded to pour and hand them out over her complaints.

"To a new generation of excellence," Slughorn called to the room, raising his glass to toast.

Elle brought her glass to her lips but before she could drink the voice of Mad-Eye rang through her mind shouting, '_Constant vigilance!'_ So before she took a sip of the drink she muttered a spell that would reveal any tampering done to the mead. She took one look at the liquid that was beginning to turn black before shooting her arm out and knocking her brother's goblet from his grasp right before he drank from it.

"Wha…" Harry stuttered.

"Stop! Don't drink it!" Elle shouted to the room.

"Miss Potter?" Professor Slughorn asked while lowering his own cup and staring, mouth agape, at Elle.

"It's been poisoned!" Elle exclaimed right as choking sounds began to come from Ginny.

The Weasley girl was clutching her throat with one hand and attempting to stay upright by holding onto the table with her other. Her body began to convulse and she slammed to the floor, writhing in obvious pain.

"Do something! Professor, do something!" a distraught Hermione screamed from the floor, where she was crouched beside Ginny.

The shocked room began to panic then; Slytherins rushed for the door and everyone else started yelling. The portly old professor was staring numbly at the girl on the floor. The only people moving to do something were Harry and Elle.

Elle kneeled down at Ginny's head and began waving her wand above the girl and whispering quickly, trying to find a spell to stop the effects of the poison. Harry was ransacking Slughorn's private stock in search of something all while Slughorn and many others stood watching the scene, eyes filled with horror.

Finally finding what he had been searching for Harry rushed to the three girls on the floor and pried Ginny's mouth open, shoving something in and forcing her to swallow it. Within seconds Ginny's breathing began to return to normal and her body slumped to the ground and lay still.

"What happened here?" the voice of McGonagall demanded as she rushed into the room, following a very frightened Ravenclaw student. Elle took a second to thank Merlin for Ravenclaws and their intelligence; at least someone had thought to send for the Gryffindor Head of House.

"A drink was poisoned," Elle gasped. "She drank before I noticed. I should have been faster. Professor, I…"

"You did fine," McGonagall said in what was probably the most soothing voice the normally shrill and strict witch possessed. "You managed to save most from drinking it."

"What did you give her, Potter?" Slughorn asked. He seemed to have finally come to his senses as McGonagall was levitating Ginny in preparation to take her to the Hospital Wing.

"Bezoar," Harry responded.

"How did you get poisoned mead?" Hermione inquired.

"It was given to me," Slughorn rushed to say, wanting them to know no blame lay with him.

"By who?" McGonagall asked, her voice very shrill.

"Madam Rosmerta, I was going to gift it to Dumbledore for Christmas," he sputtered.

"It was Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed.

"Potter! You cannot go about making accusations like that; this is a very grave matter. It will need to be taken to Professor Dumbledore when he returns from his trip. Go back to Gryffindor tower and get some sleep!" their Head demanded. "You may all come see Miss Weasley tomorrow, as I assume she will need time to recover in the Hospital Wing."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said. She tugged both Harry and Elle from the room and started to lead them in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

Half way there Harry jolted them to a stop. He dug into the pocket of his dress pants and pulled out his wand and the Marauder's Map.

"You two go on, I'm going to check something out," Harry said.

"Harry, McGonagall wants us to go back to the dorms," Hermione insisted. "Do you want to get in trouble?"

"You head back, 'Mione, I'll go with Harry," Elle said.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll keep him good and out of trouble," she replied sarcastically.

"I'm going to go back and talk to Slughorn," Harry lied.

"Fine, but don't get caught wondering the hall," Hermione ordered and then turned to stomp the rest of the way up to Gryffindor tower alone.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry muttered, jabbing the tip of his wand into the center of the map.

"What are you really doing?" Elle asked.

"I'm going to go have a talk with Malfoy," Harry replied. "He's in Myrtle's bathroom."

"Why is he there?" Elle wondered, snatching the map from her brother and watching the dot labeled 'Draco Malfoy' pace within the ghost's second floor girl's bathroom.

"Don't know, do I?" Harry said, taking off in the direction of the girl's lavatory. His wand was already drawn and his strides were so long Elle had trouble keeping up with him.

"This is a bad idea, Harry," Elle said, tugging on his arm trying to stop him.

"He poisoned that mead, I'm sure of it," Harry yanked his arm from his sister and pulled the door to the bathroom open. He put a finger to his lips and motioned Elle to draw her wand.

Elle rolled her eyes but did as he bade, as well as stowing the Marauder's Map, before following Harry into that bathroom. Draco's form came into view as they reached the part of the room that held the sinks and mirrors. He was leaning against a sink, splashing water against his face. He had removed his dress cloak and his tie; he looked to be trying very hard to hold his emotions in. Elle made the mistake of trying to move forward, having been draw by the urge to comfort the exhausted teen. Harry caught her shoulder and pulled her back abruptly, causing her heels to clatter against the marble flooring.

Draco raised his eyes to the mirror in front of him and his eyes fell upon the two Potters behind him. Harry pushed Elle aside and behind him before advancing quickly on Draco, who swirled around with his wand pointed back at Harry.

"You gave Slughorn poisoned mead!" Harry accused.

"You can't prove that, Potter!" Draco sneered, his eyes straying to the younger Potter for only a second. "Keep your nose in your own business."

"It is my business, Malfoy, if it was meant for Dumbledore," Harry retorted, taking a step closer to the taller Slytherin boy.

"Back off, Potter," Draco said in a warning voice.

"Harry, come on. Let's go," Elle said from her position several paces away from the boys.

"What are you after, Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

"None of your business, Potter. Run along," Malfoy demanded in return.

"Harry! This is silly, come on," Elle tried again.

"What goes on here is my business! Especially when it starts effecting Gryffindors!" Harry thundered.

"Yes, well all know you're the Gryffindors' bodyguard, Potter. Aren't you special? So very 'The Chosen One' of you," Draco taunted.

"Quit it, Draco! Don't taunt him," Elle said, stepping towards her brother. "Harry, please? Come on. I want to go back to the tower."

"Listen to your sister, Potter, and sod off," Draco continued, making a motion towards Elle with his wand.

Harry reacted to the gesture before noticing that Draco had not cast a spell, shouting, "_Everte Statum_!"

The spell hurled Draco backwards into the wall of sinks, causing them to fall from the walls and the mirrors above them to shatter and rain down around Draco. Elle began to rush forward towards Draco but the boy got up faster than she had thought possible after being thrown into a wall.

"_Stupefy!_" Draco shouted, thrusting his wand in Harry's direction.

"_Protego!_" Elle screamed, throwing the shield charm up between the two boys and keeping it there. "Harry! We're leaving, come on!"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Harry said waving his wand at an extremely surprised Elle, whose wand went flying cross the room.

"HEY!" Elle yelled in indignation, running across the room to fetch her wand.

Behind her Draco and her brother were trading spells in rapid succession, every spell cast more violent than the last. Her brother was sporting charred pants and Draco was soaked in the water that was spouting from the broken sinks. Elle stood watching them, unable to cast a spell to stop them without fear of hurting them further.

"QUIT!" she shouted, but neither boy paid her any attention. Harry cast another hex at Draco but missed.

"STOP IT!" she raised her voice even further as Draco aimed a jinx at her brother, who threw up a shield charm just in time to avoid getting hit by it.

"PLEASE!" Elle screamed, finally running forward to try to get between the enraged teens. Her movement distracted Draco, his face turning from determination to worry as he watched Elle run towards him.

The single second of hesitation enabled Harry to hit him, shouting, "_Sectumsempra!_"

Elle's feet faltered and she stumbled as she watched deep gashes appear across Draco's torso. The spell jolted his body with each new wound, throwing him off balance and causing him to fall to the floor. He landed with a thud and splash caused by the several inches of water that had accumulated on the floor.

"Draco?" Elle questioned in a voice that barely worked; her steps towards the boy causing loud splashing and clicking sounds. She reached him and fell to her knees beside him, clutching her wand in her hand, she was shaking; terrified as she watched blood pour from his wounds and mix with the water on the floor. "What was that spell, Harry? What did you do? Where did you learn it? Reverse it, quick! He's going to die!"

"I… I got it from the potions book. I didn't know what it did, I swear, Elle! I… don't know how to fix it," Harry stuttered as he approached his kneeling sister.

"Just go! Get rid of the book, Harry! 'Mione has been telling you all this time to get rid of it, you should have listened. I'll heal him, just go get rid of it!" Elle was screaming hysterically.

"I'll stay with you. We'll get rid of it later," Harry said, trying to join his sister on the ground.

"NO! JUST GO" Elle screeched, shoving him towards the door. "You can't afford to get in trouble with Snape. Just leave it to me."

Harry recognized there was no reasoning with her now and took off at a run to dispose of the book like she'd asked. Elle watched her older brother leave the room, waiting until she saw the door close to look down at the hurt boy in front of her; unknown feelings grabbing at her heart as her eyes met his and she noticed just how much pain he was in. She took him in one more time before closing her eyes and finding the strength to get her panicking emotions under control.

"I need to take your shirt off to get to the gashes," Elle mumbled, removing her heels and situating her dress around her so she was more comfortable, and pulling her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her face so she could concentrate.

"No! I'm fine. Leave it on," Draco insisted, trying to sit up and move away from her.

"You're going to bleed to death, Draco! Let me heal you," Elle said, shoving him back down.

"Don't take my shirt off!" Draco grunted, struggling against her.

"Afraid of what I'll find on your left forearm?" Elle whispered. Looking into his eyes she noted the surprise on his face. "Draco, I'm an active member of the Order of the Phoenix, do you think we're stupid? I know what is on your arm, and I don't care. The war we're fighting isn't here. I can't let you die in Hogwarts, there is a time and a place for Death Eaters to fight The Order; here and now isn't it."

She began to unbutton Draco's shirt, careful not to cause him any additional pain, as she removed the shirt from his left arm she was careful not to touch where she knew the Dark Mark would be. She avoided his eyes, and he hers, as she flourished her wand above each abrasion whispering an intricate incantation that was slowly closing each would.

"I'm so sorry," Draco whispered, glancing at her face he noticed the silent tears streaming down her cheeks, joining the water pooled on the bathroom floor. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know. I'm… I'm just so, so… confused," Elle said, finishing the last gash with a twist of her wrist and lowering her wand to her side. She slumped back onto her ankles and refused to look at the shirtless blond in front of her.

"About what?" Draco asked, pulling himself up to lean his back against the wall.

"You," Elle admitted.

"What about me?" Draco persisted.

"I feel a…" Elle shook her head and kept the rest of her sentence to herself. She gathered herself and stood, ready to leave the confusing boy.

"You feel connected to me?" Draco questioned, sounding like he knew the feeling.

Elle looked down at him and then at herself in the only mirror still intact and on the wall. Draco stood from the floor and stood behind her, watching their reflections. As Elle stood staring at Draco's mirror image words that and plagued her for so long sprang into her mind and tears began to spill down her face once more. Draco stepped closer to her, guiding her body to turn around to face him, he cupped her face with his rough hands and whipped the tears away as they fell.

"Harry will be so disappointed," Elle sobbed.

"What? Why? What are you talking about?" Draco questioned.

"You will betray the Dark Lord," Elle sobbed again, taking a step away from Draco.

"And that will disappoint Harry?" Draco asked, not understanding the young girl.

Elle shook her head and walked away, back to her older brother.

* * *

**Sorry its been so long. =( Had a bit of writer's block I needed to work through, but I think its gone for good. Fingers crossed. lol. Leave a review to let me know what you think. =)**


	9. Mission: Memory

**Disclaimer: I own two or more copies of all seven _Harry Potter_ books, but I didn't write a single one. **

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The school year was passing at a dreadfully slow rate for Elle. It had been two months since Elle had sobbed openly over Draco Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and things weren't really looking up yet. Harry was still obsessing over Draco, though with less vehemence and success seeing as Elle currently had the Marauder's Map and was refusing to give it to him. She was attempting to use it for the exact opposite reason as Harry; she wanted to avoid Draco at all costs. She felt unbelievably awkward in his presence now and had convinced Hermione to switch partners with her for Prefect duties in order to stay as far away from him as possible.

The Potter siblings greeted the dreary weather of winter with equally dreary attitudes. They were annoyed with one another through their constant squabbles over the Marauder's Map but were spending an increasing amount of time trailing one another around for company. It was easier for them to brood silently with one another rather than with the rest of their friends; they knew each other well enough to know when and what required actually speaking to the other.

They were both sitting in a secluded corner of the library with stacks of books piled around them and their emerald eyes locked on each other, both participating in a staring contest of sorts over opinions concerning Slughorn and the memory Harry was supposed to be getting from him. Their friends had tracked them down and were currently watching the siblings' argument with varying degrees of interest.

Hermione was standing at the head of the table, one hand on her hip the other clutching a book, an aggravated expression on her face over her opinions begin ignored by both Potters. Ron was lounging next to Harry, only interested in being able to watch the throw down between Harry and Elle that he was hoping for. Next to Ron sat a slightly confused looking Neville, highly interested in the goings on and trying to catch up on all the details he'd been left out of before Elle had blabbed about the situation with the professor angrily to him while asking him to escort her to Slughorn's dance. On either side of Elle sat Ginny and Luna; the Weasley girl scratching intermittently at a potions essay and half listening. Luna sat cross legged on her chair, a large disk of some sort in one hand and the Quibbler in the other.

"You could release some wrackspurts into his office and once they've gotten his mind good and muddled then talk to him," Luna advised, not having noticed the strange atmosphere at their table.

"Or hit him with the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack," Ron snorted, from the other side of the table.

"Yes, I guess that might work," Luna agreed, causing the gathered teens to all crack a smile. Luna and Ron had managed to diffuse the tension unintentionally once again with their confusing bantering.

"I can't just bludgeon him," Harry said, leaning back into his chair.

"Why not?" Elle protested. "I mean, you may want to use like a beater's bat or a troll's club or something more accessible than the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

"How are we ever going to win this war?" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation.

"What do you mean, 'Mione?" Ginny asked.

"We're sitting around discussing the best way to get a memory from Slughorn, something very curtail to knowing how to go about taking Voldemort down, and our best ideas involve a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and a blow to his head," Hermione stated. "If we can't even do this, how will we win the war?"

"Pure talent?" Ron suggested.

"Good luck?" Neville added.

They looked around at each other before all breaking out laughing. It was the only thing they could do knowing war was virtually upon them and pure talent, good luck, and probably nonexistent creatures were their only battle strategies.

"I thought the idea had some merit," Elle giggled.

"We're going to need a lot of luck," Neville laughed.

"Wait! Nev, what did you say?" Hermione asked, looking at him as if she had just been struck.

"I said, 'we're going to need a lot of luck,'" Neville repeated.

"That's it!" Hermione nearly shouted.

"Luck? Really, 'Mione? I thought you'd want a more detailed plan?" Elle said, before her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open; her face now resembling Hermione's.

"There must be a lot of wrackspurts in here," Luna mused, looking around as if to spot them.

"What has got you two so confunded?" Ginny asked.

"I can't believe we didn't think of it sooner!" Hermione said, shaking her head.

"It's so obvious!" Elle agreed.

"What are you two bloody on about?" Harry demanded, looking from one frazzled girl to the other.

"Luck, Harry!" Elle said, as if he should have understood already.

"Your Felix Felicis!" Hermione said. "The luck potion you won from Slughorn!"

Harry's face went from confused to gaping and wide eyes, just like the girls' had, as he realized what they meant.

"What's that?" Neville asked.

"It's a potion that will bring the drinker luck for a whole day. Anything they do will go right for them," Harry explained to Ginny, Neville and Luna who had all looked confused.

"So when will you do it? Tonight?" Ron asked.

"No, the nights almost over," Harry said. "Tomorrow would be better."

"But the Christmas ball," Hermione said.

"Who cares about the ball? It'll be the perfect time, Sluggy won't be suspecting it at all!" Elle said.

"I suppose," Hermione said hesitantly.

"At least a lot of us will be around to spot him in case something happens to go wrong," Neville said.

"I have to agree," Ginny said. "Maybe it will make this dance less painful."

"Fine, fine. We'll do it tomorrow," Hermione conceded.

"Oooh, this is going to be delightful," Luna said dreamily.

"See, 'Mione? We've got this war in the bag," Ron said.

"Don't be arrogant, Ron," Hermione responded.

The group began to gather their belongings and headed to dinner, each of them now eagerly anticipating Slughorn's ball. The next morning Elle woke to a very bothered Ginny shaking her so ferociously she nearly fell out of bed.

"What? What's going on?" Elle shouted, jumping up and diving for her wand.

"I have nothing to wear!" Ginny said, wringing her hands.

"Huh?" Elle stood with her wand now hanging limply in her hand as she watched Ginny throwing every article of clothing she owned out of her trunk and onto the floor.

"I want to look nice, but I wore my only dress to the dinner! I was planning on buying one on a Hogsmade weekend, but they aren't even having them," Ginny rambled.

"Party not 'till late. It's early. Going back to sleep," Elle mumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

"No! I need help," Ginny shouted.

Stopping to glare at her friend she gave in and strolled over to her bedside table to grab her miniature wardrobe. She walked back to the center of the room and placed it on the floor. Muttering the password to enlarge and open the wardrobe before turning around and telling Ginny she could wear whatever she wanted.

"Going to breakfast," Elle grumbled after realizing she wouldn't be able to sleep through the raucous Ginny was making getting ready.

As she entered the Great Hall she stood on tiptoes to look down the length of Gryffindor table to see if she could spot her brother. However, upon seeing Harry sitting with a bored look on his face and an annoyed looking Ron with Hermione who was obviously lecturing them on the plan for Slughorn's party Elle quickly turned her path towards the Ravenclaw table where she saw Luna sitting by herself.

"Lu," Elle greeted as she sat beside the strange girl.

"That's a nice outfit," Luna told her.

"Thanks. What's for eats?" Elle asked overlooking Luna's compliment on Elle's pajamas, which were made up of a pair of Dudley's then Harry's flannel pants and a clashing tank top that was two sizes too small, making a nice outfit.

"I'd have a muffin if I were you. I think Terry Boot sneezed on the bacon," Luna advised.

"He's gross," Elle sniffed.

"Who is Ginny going to the ball with tonight since Harry asked me?" Luna asked.

"I actually think she's going with Seamus," Elle answered.

"Why did Harry ask me?" Luna asked, looking slightly lost.

"Because he wanted to take you, Lu," Elle said.

"Why didn't he want to take Ginny?" she persisted still looking confused.

"Because he figures she's too like a sister," Elle explained.

"Oh, does Ginny know that?" Luna wondered.

"I don't think she knows exactly. I think she's finally moving on from him though, realizing he likes someone else," Elle said.

"Harry likes someone?" Luna asked. Elle noticed she had flicked her eyes to the boy still sitting at the Gryffindor table and saw her shoulders slump the slightest bit.

"Of course he does!" Elle said, trying not to giggle at Luna's obliviousness.

"Who?" she asked quietly.

"Luna," Elle stated.

"What?" the blond girl asked looking back over at Elle.

"You, Luna. He likes you," Elle said, poking the girl's leg.

"Why would he like me?" Luna asked, her voice much happier and taking back it's typical dreamy quality.

"Why wouldn't he? You're great, Lu," Elle said, finishing the last bite of her muffin. "I'll see you later at the ball. I need to knock out that potions essay before Snape threatens to send an owl home to daddy and then makes a rude comment because I haven't got one."

As she stood from the Ravenclaw table to exit the Hall she noticed another figure rise from the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy had collected himself to his full height at the same time Elle had and he was watching her every movement. She gathered her wits, berating herself for not bringing the Marauder's Map with her and made a hasty departure from the Great Hall.

She hadn't even made it to the second floor when she heard footsteps behind her. All sense leaving her she took off up the stairs at a sprint, desperate to reach Gryffindor tower before Draco had the opportunity to catch up to her. Elle never really had much of a chance of outrunning Draco, though; his taller height and longer legs giving him quite the advantage.

As she turned a corner Elle whipped her head around to see just how close Draco had gotten to her but her senses were jolted as she was grabbed and hauled into an empty broom closet near Madam Hooch's office. The inside of the closet was dark and filled with cobwebs. It was big enough to fit the two teens with less than half a foot's distance keeping them from touching.

Elle had her wand drawn and ready at her side as she let her eyes adjust the darkness. It was several minutes before either moved or said a word. Draco was the first to break the silence, asking, "What did you mean?"

"What did I mean when?" Elle asked, confused about what he was asking her.

"When you said Harry would be disappointed, what is that supposed to even mean?" Draco demanded taking a step towards Elle, lessening the distance between them to only a few inches.

"Harry is always disappointed when I let Death Eaters roam about the castle all willy nilly, doing whatever they want," Elle shot back. "I thought that would have been obvious."

"That is not what you meant. Tell the truth," Draco persisted, looking down on her much shorter frame.

"I don't own you a damn thing, Draco!" Elle whispered vehemently, moving forward and closing the distance between them.

"You want me to know," Draco challenged, forcing her back against the wall of the closet with his body and placing a hand on either side of her body effectively pinning her in place.

"You don't know me," Elle retorted.

"Why would you have said anything if you didn't want me to know?" Draco continued his questioning.

"I say a lot of things, Draco. Not all of them have something to do with you," Elle evaded.

"This does," Draco stated, sure he was correct.

"You're arrogant," Elle snapped.

"Are you only now figuring that out?" Draco chuckled.

"Don't insult me!" Elle shouted.

"You insulted me first," the tall boy said, leaning his head closer to Elle's.

"Don't… Don't touch me," Elle warned, as Draco continued to move closer.

Draco exhaled and gave her an inches' space between their bodies. His body was stiff and Elle could hear the trouble he was having controlling his breathing. She examined his face, noticing his eyes looking even more restless than usual. His brow was contorted somewhere between anger and confusion.

He looked broken. As he stood, pinning Elle to a wall with her seemingly trapped she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the one trapped. She knew all it would take was one word from her and he would move away, let her leave. The word would never leave her lips though; she knew that just as well.

Draco's body language was screaming for her help, reassurance of some sort. She searched and searched her mind and soul trying to find the strength to tell him what he was about to do was alright, that she understood. But she couldn't find it; she had no pretty words to sooth his cracking soul or the heart she knew was shattered; the heart that she knew only she could mend.

She found nothing to help him, she could not even free herself from this pain—the pain of knowing what he would attempt to do and the pain, the confusion of knowing when it was all said and done she would fail in finding a single shred of hate within her directed at this boy. So Elle did the only thing left to do; she shared her pain with him and accepted his pain in return.

She let her wand fall from her hand. It clattered to the floor shooting sparks out for just a second. Then she reached forward, and rested one hand on each of his sides. Her hands clenched of their own accord, her mind was starting to swivel out of her control as she thought of Draco with the mark on his arm; of Dumbledore who would soon be dead; and of her older brother who wouldn't understand.

Suddenly she was flush against him again. Draco's arms encircling her and holding her tight to his chest. She felt him shaking and finally lost her last bit of control. She let her arms wrap around him in return and she hid her face in his chest as she soaked up the feeling of being held in the arms of a man besides her brother for the first time.

"What is Dumbledore's Army planning?" Draco gasped, his questions moving in a different direction now.

"Nothing," Elle lied straight into his chest.

"Whatever it is; don't do it," Draco's voice was taking on a hint of pleading.

"Have to," Elle responded.

"This isn't your war," Draco stated, almost sternly.

"It is," Elle said. "Don't worry about it, Draco. We know what we're doing."

"Forgive me for not having faith in a team of kids that includes Longbottom and Lovegood," Draco muttered.

"They are extraordinary friends, and good fighters," Elle chastised. "Not even that dangerous, what we're doing."

"Everything with you lot starts off simple and lands you in a kill or die situation," Draco said, moving Elle away from him just enough to look her in the eyes.

"Hardly," Elle responded. "We've made it this far."

"You're all too reckless," Draco stated.

Elle disentangled herself from him to pick up her wand. She edged past him to the door of the broom closet. She had spent long enough with Draco indulging their connection; it was time to head back to Gryffindor tower so no one started to get worried. She hesitated before exiting and looked over her shoulder to Draco who was watching her leave.

"I know," Elle agreed, a slight smile alighting her face. She left him then to prepare for Slughorn's ball.

Hours later Elle was being escorted into Slughorn's office by a very flustered Neville. Upon entering she saw that his office had been enchanted to be at least twice the size as it normally was. Sheer fabrics were attached to the celling and cascaded to the floor in a manner that made the previously unordinary room look like something you would find in the castles of royalty.

All around the room scurried large platters of food and drinks, carried by house elves you could only just make out beneath their burdens. In the center of the room was a dance floor, filled with witches and wizards Elle had never seen before twirling and swaying—seeming to be having a wonderful time. The rest of the room was littered with fellow members of the Slug Club.

In a far corner Elle spotted Hermione looking harried and being pulled towards the dance floor by Cormac McLaggen. She was shaking her head vigorously at the same time looking around for a friend to come to her rescue. It was a comical sight.

"So good of you to come," Slughorn said, sliding up to her and Neville. "Who did you bring with you? A boyfriend?"

"This is Neville Longbottom," Elle introduced, doing her best to stay cordial. "His parents were Frank and Alice Longbottom. They were very high ranking important members of the Frist Order."

"Oh! Yes, yes. I remember them now. Very good of you to come, boy," Slughorn said, though he didn't seem very sincere.

"Thank you, Professor," Neville responded. He looked uncomfortable; probably knowing Slughorn wasn't actually taking an interest in him.

"How are your classes coming?" Slughorn asked Elle. "You're doing quite well at Potions."

"They're great, thanks," Elle said.

"Where is that brother of yours, eh? I'd like to get a picture with the two of you," Slughorn said, craning his head in attempts to find Harry among the crowd.

"He'll be here shortly. He had to meet his date outside of the common room, and she may have gone to the wrong spot," Elle said, a genuine smile appearing of her face as she pictured Harry running around trying to find Luna.

"Really? He's not with a Gryffindor?" Slughorn asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Nope. He's with Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw," Elle told him.

"Look, there he is," Neville pointed towards the door just as Harry entered laughing at something Luna was saying.

Elle smiled, watching her brother's happiness when he was with Luna was something she didn't get to see much.

"Harry! Luna! Over here," Elle called, perfectly happy to no longer be the center of Slughorn's attention.

As soon as Harry and Luna reached them Slughorn waved over his camera man and Neville and Luna were shuffled out of the way in order for Slughorn to get his picture. After the picture had been taken they stood as Slughorn asked Harry more questions about himself, but eventually the potions master was tugged away by a former student. The group heaved a collective sigh of relief.

The four moved over to a corner of the room, catching the eyes of Ginny and Hermione. Once the two girls had joined them they hid themselves amidst the shimmering, slightly see through drapings.

"Have you taken the potion yet, Harry?" Hermione asked immediately, ready to get down to business and away from the groping hands of McLaggen as fast as possible.

"No, not yet," Harry said.

"Well go on. We'll hide you from view," Elle said, moving to stand behind her brother so that no one would see him taking the potion through the hanging fabrics.

"Alright, here goes," Harry said downing the small bottle of potion in one swallow, then stashing the bottle back inside his robes.

"How do you feel?" Neville asked.

"I feel good, really great actually. C'mon let's all go dance," Harry said, grabbing Luna's hand and tugging her confused form to the dance floor.

Elle followed her brother, Neville right behind her, just as Hermione was cornered once again by Cormac. The pairs weaved their way through the throngs of other dancers to the center of the floor, where Harry swirled Luna around without warning. The poor, still confused girl nearly lost her footing at the unexpected move.

"Harry," Elle hissed, so no unwanted eavesdroppers would hear. "We're not supposed to be dancing. You're supposed to go talk to Slughorn. The memory!"

"Harry, I… I don't even know how to dance," Neville mumbled as Elle lead him around the dance floor with some difficulty.

"Lighten up, Ellvi. You sound more and more like 'Mione every day," Harry chortled; now dipping Luna, who had gone back to just staring around in wonder and enjoying dancing with Harry. The mission probably slipped from her mind.

"Oh, this is just great," Elle snapped under her breath, as Ginny joined them on the floor with Seamus. She was trying to talk to Elle without Seamus hearing, mouthing words Elle couldn't understand and pointing one hand from Harry to Slughorn repeatedly behind Seamus' head.

Just as Elle was about to storm over to her brother and hex his glasses to steam up every time he lost focus Slughorn appeared next to him, dancing with a witch much shorter than him. Harry stopped spinning and dipping Luna and began to talk with the older man; both seemed to be having a great time with their chat, and very soon Slughorn was leading Harry off the dance floor and out of sight of the rest of the room. Luna was left dancing, happily, by herself, waving her hands in the air and bouncing about.

Harry had been gone for nearly an hour, according to Neville, who was so nervous he was counting, when the door to the party slammed open and Draco sauntered into the room. His eyes swept the enlarged office and landed on Elle, darkening at the sight of Neville being so near to her. He made a path straight to them, not excusing himself when he knocked others out of his way.

"Malfoy is coming towards us," Neville said. "Oh no."

Elle didn't respond to Neville, but kept her eyes on the Slytherin growing closer to her with each step. He was livid, Elle could tell, from the look on his face and the way he was striding towards them. However, no matter how angry he was, the haggardness was still visible to her.

When he was a few feet away from them Elle dropped her hands from Neville and turned to face the oncoming boy. She could feel Neville fidgeting beside her as Draco came to a stop in front of them.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Neville demanded, his voice strong until he said Draco's name.

"Nothing concerning you, Longbottom," Malfoy snapped, his eyes taking in Elle's figure.

"Draco? Is there something you needed?" Elle inquired, sounding much less interested in the man than she actually was.

Draco didn't respond, he just stepped forward and took her arm, pulling her around so that Neville was facing the opposite direction of them. Then he moved his hand to her lower back and led her to a different place on the dance floor.

Finding Neville's eyes through the crowd Elle waved at him that she was okay, before turning back to Draco. Her heart was thumping wildly.

"What do you want?" She asked.

But Draco ignored her and, pulling her closer to him began to lead her in a slow paced dance.

"Why were you dancing with Longbottom?" Draco asked, his voice very close to sounding too possessive.

Elle narrowed her eyes, not fond of the way he sounded.

"Neville is my friend, he is very loyal and trustworthy," Elle stated. "I asked him to be my escort because he understands that I am not interested in more than friendship with him and he feels the same. And who I dance with is none of your business. I am my own person; you have no claim over me."

Draco stiffened for a second, but relaxed when Elle didn't move to pull away from him.

"Of course," he conceded.

"It won't be good for people to notice us dancing. We aren't meant to be friends," Elle whispered.

"It won't matter after tonight. Listen," Draco implored, sounding very urgent. Before he could go on, though, the Carrow twins and their dates passed them, looking at Draco with suspicious eyes. He twirled Elle around before pulling her as close to himself as possible. He continued in a whisper near her ear, "You need to go back to Gryffindor tower after this and stay there, don't leave for any reason until morning."

"What are you talking about?" Elle hissed, pulling away from him.

"I can't explain, just… promise me you'll do that?" Draco asked.

"I can't do that! What is going to happen?" Elle demanded, shoving Draco away from her and glowering at him.

"Damnit, Elle, just listen to someone else for once!" Draco ordered angrily.

"Explain and maybe I will," Elle offered, both knowing it would probably be a lie.

Draco never had a chance to explain, as Elle was pulled away from him roughly by her brother. Harry didn't even comment on Draco, just concentrated on rounding up all of their friends. Once they were all together they were rushed from the room by Harry and into a small deserted classroom.

"I got the memory," Harry said in a breathless voice. "I've already been to Dumbledore, and I don't have time to explain right now. He thinks I'm just fetching the cloak. He's taking me with him to look for one. A Horcrux, he thinks he knows where another is."  
The gathered teens listened without interrupting for maybe the first time ever as Harry doled out orders of what they should do tonight in his absence.

"Go wake Ron," Harry continued. "Don't go anywhere without your wands. I want you all to watch out for the rest of the students, so patrol the corridors. Pay special attention to the dungeons, Snape, and Malfoy. I have a bad feeling about tonight. 'Mione, you and Ron keep watch over Snape. Ginny and Neville keep watch over the Houses. Elle and Luna you two watch over Malfoy and the Slytherins. They're up to something, I'm sure of it. I'll send you a message on the coins if anything goes wrong or when I get back. Stick together and keep your wands drawn at all times. Remember, constant vigilance!"

As Harry's tirade of instructions concluded they all chuckled at his reference to Mad-Eye that was given only half in jest. They watched as he took off, and once he was gone Elle stood up taking charge in his leave.

"Go wake Ron now," She told Hermione. "Everyone else go do as he said. Come on, Lu. It looks like we're spending the night with the snakes."

Running off in all separate directions Elle pulled the Marauder's Map and her wand from where she had them stashed under her dress against her upper thigh.

"You and Harry always keep your possessions in the weirdest places," Luna remarked, springing after Elle towards the dungeons.

The girls took of vigil near the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory, their only means of disguise a nicely performed disillusionment charm by Elle. They watched as Draco slipped into the common room after coming back from the party. He was followed shortly by Blaise Zabini and the Carrow twins.

Elle and Luna had been waiting in front of the tapestry so long without a single hint at something happening that they began to lose interest. At one point, maybe a half-hour prior, the two girls had completely given up on standing and had slid down the clod wall to sit and rest their backs against the chilly, clammy feeling stones. Luna's head lolled, resting on Elle's shoulder, as she slept with her wand clutched loosely in her hand.

Elle's wand lay discarded on the floor beside her atop of the Marauder's Map she had closed several minutes ago. It having read that the only people in the whole castle moving about at all were Hermione and Ron, near Snape's office, Ginny and Neville had been somewhere near the Hufflepuffs, and herself and the dozing Luna, uncomfortable and bored to tears in the dungeons. She managed to stay awake for an additional twenty minutes before falling into a light and restless sleep.

* * *

**Last chapter I got a review asking if Lucius had been sent to Azkaban after the Ministry fight. In this story he wasn't. All Death Eaters managed to get out. **

**Soooo, we're getting very close to the point in the story that I look forward to sharing the most. It's really very close to being ready to be posted, but I want to edit it and add in some more details and what not. That being said it probably won't be the next thing I post. The next thing coming out will be a chapter I'm working on in Draco's POV. It will cover eventes in the past and maybe his view of some events from recent times. However, it will be posted seperatly and is not vital to understanding the rest of this story. Leave a review and tell me what you think. =) And if you have any questions, ask and I'll be happy to answer them. =)**


	10. It is Time

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but a beat up old car that has no hub caps. =(**

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Hours later Elle was still lying in the corridor on the damp stone floor near the Slytherin dungeons, Luna fast asleep against her. There were no sounds coming from within the castle, it was even more quite than usual. She hadn't noticed the opening and closing of the portrait she was supposed to be watching, nor the hushed footsteps of a certain Slytherin leaving, heading to the upper levels of the castle. She hadn't felt the warming of the fake galleon she had on her person. None of these things stirred Elle Potter from her slumber; it was something quite different that snapped her back into consciousness.

She sat up suddenly, wide awake. It was not a sound but a familiar sensation that caused her to wake. She knew the feeling very well, the tugging in the middle of her chest; it was unmistakable and it drew from her a panic that seared straight from the core of her soul, clawing at her heart and fogging her mind. The tugging, she knew, was Dumbledore summoning her, they had been practicing the technique all year; but not once had he done it without warning. She was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that her headmaster was, in his final act of desperation, calling her to his side for help.

Giving in to the tug she felt her body slip through space, just as it had during all of their practices, and within seconds she was slammed onto a cold, stone floor. Looking around she took in her surroundings, recognizing the astronomy tower of Hogwarts. For one delusional second she thought it had been just another practice, Dumbledore testing her in some way, because she could think of nothing within the grounds of the school that could pose such a terrible threat to the headmaster that would cause him to summon her – that is until her eye sight adjusted fully and her gazed landed on the scene taking place before her.

Dumbledore was clutching the waist-high wall of the tower, depending on it to hold himself upright; his gaze was locked on a figure that held a wand pointed at his chest. Dumbledore's own wand was several feet away from its master, clearly out of reach. Her brother, who had been on a mission with Dumbledore that night, was nowhere to be seen.

The eyes of Dumbledore's attacker landed on her kneeling form in surprise. Draco Malfoy's steel grey eyes board into her own blazing emerald ones, she could practically feel the terror radiating off the boy, and for a second she could have sworn she saw a pleading look cross his face. What he was pleading her for she didn't know because in an instant he covered it with a look of determination, directing his gaze back to his prey.

"How did she get here?" Draco demanded, thrusting his arm at Elle. His voice was cold as ice as it sliced through the night air. An anger that hadn't been present in the young wizard before was surfacing now, called forth by the unsuspected arrival of Elle.

"I summonsed her, Draco. It is always good to have a backup plan, don't you agree?" Dumbledore stated, calm even in the face of his own death.

"Backup plan?" Draco repeated. He didn't understand what the old wizard had meant, but the phrase had cleared Elle's mind of its fog and realization jolted through her. Her heart began to pound against her ribs; her body seemed to go numb.

The time had come, apparently, for Draco to act upon the orders she knew Voldemort had given him. He was trying to take their headmaster's life. It was now only a matter of time before Elle would know if she was going to have to step in and fill Draco's orders should he find himself unable. Shaking worse than she ever had, Elle clambered to her feet and took a small, unsteady step towards Draco.

"Draco, I beg you reconsider," Dumbledore said. "If you only were to ask you would be provided with the help you need to keep yourself and your mother out of harm's way."

"How is it that easy?" Draco screamed, his still outstretched wand quivering. His eyes darted to Elle, watching quietly on the other side of the tower. To him she seemed the picture of calm; he had no idea of the state of panic her mind was in at that moment. The only thing he noticed about the girl was that she didn't appear to be judging Draco. There was no anger in her.

"It is not easy, my boy, but it could be done," Dumbledore tried to assure the young wizard.

"We wouldn't be safe!" Draco yelled. "He would kill my mother before your lot even had a chance to get to her. This is the only way. I have to kill you!"

"P-Professor?" Elle asked, her voice hoarse from the strain of trying to keep her tears at bay. "H-Harry?"

Dumbledore spared her a glance and said, "He is fine."

Elle nodded satisfied her brother had not come to harm and continued to watch the two wizards in front of her. "If that is what you feel you have to do, then you may do it," she heard her teacher say.

She watched as Draco tried to steady his arm. She saw his mouth open and close several times, the spell just within it but refusing to leave his lips.

"Death Eaters will be in your school any minuet," he said instead of uttering the curse. Elle watched as he lowered his wand to his side. "They're going to kill me. My mother."

His voice was almost soundless, if Elle had not seen his lips form the words she never would have known he had spoken. She stared at him, stunned, frozen to the spot. It grew eerily quiet as the three people on the highest of Hogwarts's towers regarded each other, each trying to decide what should be done next. Elle waiting for a cue she hoped would never come.

Dumbledore watched as Draco's shoulders slumped and he looked skywards, resigned to the death that would be brought to him by his own side. Elle watched Dumbledore; she noticed every move he made; every quirk of his brow, every tilt of his lips, the flickering of his eyes back and forth between the two students before him.

Elle felt Draco's gaze upon her and she turned her head to meet his eyes. Unadulterated emotions poured from him, they were practically tangible; her skin rose in goose bumps as the swirling feelings falling from him in crashing waves grappled at her thoughts trying to register and align with something in the dark recesses of her mind. He nearly brought her to her knees. She understood then why Dumbledore was willing to go so far for this boy, she could see that he had no control over his circumstances – that he had never wanted to follow his orders.

A loud bang sounded throughout the castle, and it was as though suddenly everything was moving much too fast and too slow at the same time. There were voices screaming spells, some she recognized as Death Eater's and some as her friends and teachers. A battle had broken out inside the walls of Hogwarts. She could hear footsteps thundering closer and closer to where they were, she knew they would be upon them soon. They would want to see for themselves the broken body of Albus Dumbledore.

"Elle," Dumbledore whispered, and the girl's wide, tear-filled green eyes swung from the door she had been watching to her mentor. "It is time."

"But, professor, there has to be something! A way to fix this! If I could just…" Her thoughts scrambled for some idea to come to her, but none did. Her legs wobbled and almost gave way as she looked up into the twinkling blue eyes she had come to understand so well. She saw him nod and smile at her sadly. "NO! NO! PLEASE! I… I… What will we do without you? The Order, what will they do? And Harry, he still needs time!"

She had known for months that this moment would come, that it was unstoppable, and yet she begged him to tell her she was right, that he had thought of another way out of the situation. She fought the tears back and tried to still the quivering of her chin, she struggled to hold back the sob that wanted to choke its way through her chest so that her anguish could be heard. She shook her head violently. "I NEED YOU! I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE! I CAN'T DO ALL YOU EXPECT ME TO DO!"

"Sweet girl, you have never needed me. You will become more than I could ever have imagined for myself to become. I have never really been your teacher, just an accomplice to your growth. You could have done it without me. Your power comes from no one but you. You have all my information, Elle, The Order will be fine. Harry will play his part very well; I have made sure of that. And you must know, dear child, that you will never be alone. There will always be someone at your side; there are many people who love you, other than I. Do not despair, young one, you will do even more than I expect and you will do it well and good. You will do splendidly. I have faith in you," Dumbledore told her. He had tears in his eyes, but the look on his face did not hold a hint of despair. His pride in Elle shone through, it was quite plain. "Come now, Elle. We are running very short on time; we don't want anyone innocent to die here tonight. Everything will be alright, child."

Elle looked away from him; she couldn't stand it any longer. She would fulfill his final request of her; she would not fail him now. Looking at Draco she swallowed her fear and pushed herself forward.

She was running across the tower to where Draco stood, gaping at her in shock. It felt as though she was running through quick sand, she couldn't tell if she was moving at all. The only thing she could see was the blond before her. The only thing she could hear was the ponding of her own heart, crying out for her to stop. She felt the cold stone of Hogwarts beneath her bare feet, the rough stone making them raw, numb to her flight. The hem of the white gown she wore rustled against her upper thighs, caressing her skin unpleasantly, to her it felt like fingers clawing at her; ripping flesh from her bones.

She reached him too quickly, she thought, and lunged for his wand. For it must be his wand, it had to look as though he had done it, it had to be flawless to convince Lord Voldemort. He grappled with her for control over the wand, not knowing what she was doing. Draco was taller and stronger than her and she could hear footsteps beginning to ascend to the top of the highest tower. In her desperation she resorted to punching him in the stomach, making him double over to cough. She finally snatched the wand out of his lax grip.

Elle whipped around then to look into the wise face of the wizard she held above all others. She could feel Draco's gaze on her back, she wanted to scream at him not to watch; she felt it should be much more private. She faltered for only one moment before raising Draco's wand to the chest of the old wizard.

"I'll miss you every single day," she whispered, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin.

"I will miss you as well, my dear one. You have made me so proud; I only wish I could have watched you grow further." Tears were openly streaming down the face of Albus Dumbledore as he responded in a whisper just as quite.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Elle managed to choke out. There was a flash of green light and she watched as Dumbledore's now dead body fell from the highest tower of his beloved school.

She turned to Draco and threw his wand back at him, which he caught with a dazed look on his face. Elle looked about her and rushed to pick up Dumbledore's discarded wand. Pointing it at Draco's temple she muttered the incantation that would fabricate a memory of Draco following through with his lord's orders and with a swipe of the wand she inserted it into his mind. It would cover up the one of Elle, but not erase the truth. Draco would know the facts of what had happened but if Voldemort searched his mind he would see only the topmost memory, the fake one. Once she was done she flung the wand over the tower so that it would not be found with her by the Death Eaters that were now just seconds away.

Her job finally done she collapsed onto the floor, her back pressed against the wall. She gathered her legs to her chest and began to sob. She had no way to escape the Death Eaters that rushed through the door at that second. She merely watched them, tears dripping down her face soaking her neck and chest.

Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestragne looked upon the scene dumbfounded. Lucius moved to his son, a grin growing on his face, and clasped his shoulder.

"The Dark Lord will be so happy," Lucius exclaimed. "You managed to kill the old fool."

Elle gave a choking sound and turned her gaze stubbornly from the approaching Bellatrix.

"Well, if it isn't little Harry's baby sister," She gushed, fake adore spilling from her mouth. "What should we do with you?"

"What do you mean?" Draco said, snapping out of his silence. "The Dark Lord said nothing about her. We're done, round up the others and let's go. She is worthless."

"I'm taking her to the Dark Lord, Draco. Don't be stupid, he would love to have her. She was in with Dumbledore and she's the boy's sister," Bellatrix stated, pulling Elle up with a handful of her hair. "So easy, too. She doesn't even have a wand."

Elle tried to jerk out of Bellatrix's grip. She threw her whole body into trying to rip away from her, until she felt the tip of a wand dig into the skin right above her heart.

"Little Potters, always trying to be so brave, trying to fight so hard," Bellatrix whispered into Elle's ear. "So stupid, you both are. You'll both be dead by the end of this; you might even be dead by the end of the night."

Elle quieted her crying and forced her tears to stop. She let her body go limp next to the Death Eater's. She turned her head and matched Bellatrix's glare with one of her own, "I know something you don't know," Elle taunted, just to get under her skin, to prove that Bellatrix could not break her.

"What are you talking about?" Bellatrix practically screamed, tugging harshly at Elle's long hair.

Elle said nothing, she thought nothing; knowing her mind was not safe from the crazed woman. She protected her mind by thinking of nothing but the school song and singing it over and over, she knew it would drive Bellatrix out fast – the woman would find it too annoying.

The door burst open again and a hoard of people, Death Eater's and students and teachers alike, began to topple through, curses still flying left, right and center. In the midst of the mob Elle saw her brother aim a curse at a masked Death Eater, before he noticed that his sister was in the clutches of the Death Eater he despised most.

Everyone stopped as they noticed Harry's attack halt. Harry had eyes for no one but his sister, clutched to the chest of a psychotic Death Eater; he knew her life was in danger if he so much as made a move towards them. All around the tower calls of happiness rang out from the Death Eaters and cries of despair from the rest, seeing the loved, highly adored figure of Elle captured. They all silenced then, as Lucius addressed Snape, "It has been done. Dumbledore is dead at the foot of this tower. We must retreat now."

Hell broke loose once more when the Order and Dumbledore's Army members heard the news of the wizard's death. Elle watched as the Death Eaters began to disentangle themselves from the fight and make for the door that would lead them back into the castle. Members of the Order and the Army raced after them, perusing them in hope of getting Elle back.

Bellatrix was one of the first to make it to the door, Elle still in tow. She forced the girl to move as fast as her, but Elle couldn't see where she was going. The steps descending the tower were narrow and at the rushed pace Elle couldn't get her feet to each of them solidly. She fell down every few seconds, taking Bellatrix with her. Once they hit the landing Elle was rocketed from Bellatrix and into a wall, the crazed woman screeching for someone else to take her.

Elle was huddled where she had fallen, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked from her. In front of her was a wall of Death Eaters, Bellatrix now at their head, cursing at random and cackling with euphoria. Just as Elle was about to attempt to get away Lucius broke through his fellow Death Eaters, hauling Draco with him.

"You take the girl," he ordered.

Taking a step towards Elle, Draco turned on the spot to face his father. He was taller than his father by several inches; he was bigger and had much more muscle mass. Elle noted for the first time how Draco could be perceived as intimidating. He said nothing, though. His face was full of rage, and his father took a step back from his son. After the staring match that had lasted only half a second Draco swooped around and gathered Elle into his arms, following his father's order.

He carried her as if she weighed nothing. He held her tightly to his chest, making his way through the fight, making sure neither of them was hit with a single curse or hex. Elle struggled against his arms, but she was no match for him. She gave up her struggle all together when he bent to whisper in her ear.

"Calm down. You either stay with me or one of the others will take charge of you. You're safest with me," he told her.

They were in the Entrance Hall now, surrounded mainly by Death Eaters. The shouts of the Order and her friends were growing fainter behind her as Draco started across the grounds.

She could hear Harry's voice thundering over the rest, throwing defensive spells out and attacking any Death Eater still near him.

"Little Harry, so, so angry. We've got his baby, what will he do now? Will he kill us?" Bellatrix taunted as she dueled Harry across the grounds.

"You'll regret ever touching her," Harry screamed. "_Crucio!_"

Elle heard Bellatrix crumble to the ground, her screams echoing throughout the grounds. Trembling, Elle hid her face in Draco's neck; he pulled her closer to him in response. She wished for nothing more than to be next to her brother, letting him know she was alright. She knew, though, if she was seen running back to him she would be killed on sight, just to hurt Harry further.

She looked over Draco's shoulder to see the battle behind them. Death Eaters were pulling away from the fight, now sprinting to the point just outside the gates where they would be able to disaparate. Harry and the Order members were still chasing after them, but it was obvious they would get away, they had the advantage if sheer numbers.

Draco and Elle were the first to reach the apparition point. Draco spun on his heel and Elle was squeezed through air and space to a place she had never been to before, a place she feared she would never leave.

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** I know it's a bit shorter than usual, but I didn't want to include anything else in this chapter; it's completly dedicated to Dumbledore, nothing else to distract. The next one will be longer again. Review to let me know how you liked it. I hope you're all continuing to enjoy my story. =) "DM: Branded" the Draco POV chapter is up, you should all check it out if you haven't already. I'm going shut up before this gets longer than the update. =/ lol **


	11. Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

**Disclaimer: All credit of original characters goes to Rowling.**

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It was less than a second later that the suffocating feeling of apparating left Elle's body and she fell onto a cold marbled floor she had never set foot on before. The jolt of the impact had caused Draco to lose his footing as well as his grasp on Elle and he was at his knees beside her, panting hard. Elle chanced a look up at him and for the few seconds that they were alone they held each other's gazes. Draco's eyes displaying only his concern for the girl. He looked as though it was a struggle for him not to lower his eyes from hers; he was ashamed.

Cracking noises began to sound from various points within the room and Draco and Elle got to their feet, Elle trying to stay as close to Draco as possible without arousing suspicion from the Death Eaters.

The room they were in was an entrance hall right inside the front door of the mansion. It was large enough to fit the kitchen, dining room, and living room of the Dursley's inside it at once. Along the walls there were painting of wizards Elle could just faintly remember seeing in _Purebloods Through the Ages: An Ancestry of Magnificence. _She was obviously in Malfoy Manor.

"What've we got 'ere?" drawled the voice of a man who was covered in scars and looking over Elle in a disturbing manner.

"_Greyback!_" Elle seethed, her voice filled with venom as she took a step towards him.

"Don't speak unless you are spoken to, filth!" Lucius shouted from the other end of the hall. All the Death Eaters in the room stood exchanging glances as if they didn't know what to do with Elle now that they had her.

"What are we going to do with her?" Bellatrix wondered, her eyes glinting with ideas behind them. All, no doubt, involving torture.

"The Dark Lord will decide what to do with her," Lucius intoned.

"Of course, but he is not here," Bellatrix whispered in a greedy fashion. "Can't we play with her until then?"

"I do not like to play with my food, Bella," Lucius snapped. "But you may do as you wish, as long as she lives through it. The Dark Lord must be the one to give her death sentence. When you're done throw her in the dungeons."

Elle heard Draco moan quietly from beside her but did not take her eyes from the werewolf across from her. She didn't even spare a glance at Bellatrix as the woman skipped in an insane fashion, her arms whipping around like a windmill, to where Elle stood.

She shoved Elle to the center of the space around which the others were gathered, where everyone would have a good view of whatever she was about to do. Elle's face didn't betray her; there was no fear to be seen there. She kept her gaze firmly on Greyback, showing only the hate she had for him through her eyes.

"What is going on here?" asked a controlled feminine voice.

"Just welcoming our new guest," Lucius said.

"Who is this?" the voice asked again. Elle guessed it was Draco's mother, Narcissa.

"It's itty, bitty Elle Potter," answered Bellatrix in a loud whisper as she circled Elle, trying to decide what to do with her.

"Elle Potter?" Narcissa asked in a surprised voice.

"Yes, yes," Bellatrix answered, coming to a halt behind Elle, who could feel her breath washing over her she was so close. "I think we'll give her to the puppy as a new play toy!"

"How many times I got to tell you not to call me a puppy?" Greyback snapped, but his eyes were shinning with excitement as he advanced on Elle.

Elle felt Bellatrix move away from her and heard her laughing gleefully. She stumbled back, away from the prowling man. Horror was quite obvious on her face now. She fumbled in vain trying to find her wand, knowing it had been left in the corridor near the sleeping Luna.

Twirling around she gave a brief thought to begging someone for help, but quickly ruled it out. In the crowd of nearly thirty people Elle saw only three faces that were not plastered with interest or excitement; Draco, who looked stormy with anger; Narcissa, confused and watching her son; and Snape, his face showing no emotion at all.

She heaved in a huge breath, summoning her strength and courage, just as she felt Greyback's hands on her neck. One was gripping it tightly as the other brushed her long hair over a shoulder. She sensed him lean in closer to her and stifled a scream as she felt his tongue move from the base of her neck to her hairline, where he inhaled her sent deeply.

Too quickly for the wolf to notice Elle widened her stance and threw all of her weight into elbowing the disgusting man in the stomach. As he pitched back from her, wheezing and clutching where she had hit him Elle whirled around. Gasps rang out throughout the room as Elle dove towards the pseudo Death Eater and tackled him. Pinning him to the floor for as long as she could while he was taken aback, Elle searched his body for his wand.

She finally found it in the pocket of his pants when Greyback gathered his wits and gripped her wrist, snarling at her. He flung her off his body and pinned her in return, his hands on her neck tighter than before.

Elle grappled with him, tugging at his hands and ripping his skin open with her nails. She flailed her entire body with as much force as she could. Her vision was beginning to grow darker and her head swam with visions of her godfather, who suffered for the cruel pleasure of the man on top of her, and Bill Weasley, who would never be the same because of him.

She stilled her body and looked into the eyes of the repulsive werewolf, a grin forming on her face. Elle removed her hands from Greyback's arms and aimed a punch at his ribs with her left and pulling his scraggly hair with all her strength to the right.

The effect was just as Elle had wished and Greyback was knocked off of her. She scrambled to her feet, the faces of all the Death Eaters around her shocked. And for the first time in her life Elle thanked the heavens for Dudley Dursley and his bullying ways, because they sure had helped Elle build strength and endurance.

Elle hadn't noticed Greyback regaining his feet, or him coming up behind her until he had spun her around and throw her against a wall, holding her upright with his own body pressed against hers, until she was finding it hard to breathe again.

"Who taught you how to play, my pretty?" Greyback huffed, looking quite worn out but still managing to sound like a creep.

Elle didn't respond, but focused her attention on trying to stop his hands from lifting the skirt of her dress. An all new type of terror began to pump the adrenalin through Elle's veins, she had never thought that even a man as detestable as Greyback would attempt this.

She lost all rational thought, tears began to well in her eyes as her throat constricted. Her eyes swept around the room until she found the grey eyes she was looking for. Draco was directly across from where she was now, murder explicit in his eyes and rage falling from him in palpable waves that only Elle noticed. His mother's hand was on his shoulder, but his attention was for Elle only.

"Draco? Draco, please!" Elle choked out, as the room around her burst into laughter.

He took a small step forward, but his mother grabbed his arm to stop him.

"DRACO!" Elle screamed as Greyback clutched at her thighs. She tried to force him away from her, but her arms didn't seem as strong as before.

"That is quite enough, half-breed!" Narcissa called from the other side of the room.

She drew both Elle and Greyback's eyes to her, neither quite sure who she had been addressing.

"I'm speaking to you, wolf. You will not touch that girl in my house! Such actions will not be permitted!" Narcissa said with confidence.

"I think you will find, dear wife, that this is my house. You have no say here," Lucius chuckled as though what was happening before him was nothing but a funny little show being put on just for his amusement.

Narcissa had given Elle something precious, though. She had distracted Greyback, who had loosened his grip, and gave her a moment to clear her mind. Shoving fear to the furthest reaches of her mind she reached over to the stand that was beside her and grabbed onto a large crystal vase with a beautiful arrangement of imported lilies in it.

"This is for Bill Weasley, you will never touch one of them again," Elle said in a hoarse voice as she brought the vase smashing down on the werewolf's head.

Greyback crumbled to the floor at Elle's feet, his hands on his head.

"You are an abomination," she told him. "Remus Lupin is a good man, he is loved and pure. Not even your foulness could taint him. This is for him."

Elle raised the wand she had finally gotten out of his pocket, tears were already leaking from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Elle said, sincere but sure. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

She fell to the floor, her dress torn and bloody. The gathered Death Eaters converged on her. The wand was tugged from her hands and she was forced to look up by Bellatrix yanking her hair again. Bellatrix's own wand was at her throat.

"Get back, Bellatrix," hissed Draco. "She goes to the dungeon before you make any more stupid decisions!"

"Who are you to order me around?" Bellatrix screeched.

"We've all forgotten one thing in this chaos you've created," Draco's voice so calm and icy everyone backed away. "I am in charge now."

"You! You!" Bellatrix could not find an argument to suffice. There was none, for it was true.

"You knew, Bella," Narcissa informed. "That upon completion of his mission Draco would become the Dark Lord's second. You have no jurisdiction here any longer!"

Draco plucked Elle from the floor and cradled her in his arms, more gently than the lieutenant of the Dark Lord should have been capable of. He marched from the foyer without looking back, his mother following close behind him.

Elle didn't struggle, but stared ahead blankly. She didn't notice the grand living room they entered, or the long hall that led from it into a dining hall. She wasn't pulled from her stupor by the greeting Draco and his mother received from the many house elves that were gathered in the large kitchen.

She didn't move at all until Narcissa yanked a heavy wooden door that was in the corner of the room open for Draco to move through. What caused her to flinch was the air that wafted out of the open door; it was cool as ice, and Elle felt as though she had just been dunked into a lake in the dead of winter. Her whole body started to quake with shivers as Draco carried her through the door and down a flight of old stone steps.

With each step downwards that Draco took Elle clung to him tighter. Her head began to cloud with her darkest thoughts, her worst memories, and her deepest, best kept secrets. She shook her head violently, desperate to clear it. As Draco took the last step into the room at the bottom of the stairs Elle gasped, holding onto him as though her life depended on him never letting go.

From out of the darkness of the room came the creature turning the air and her heart to ice; a Dementor. It wasn't hooded now, like they normally were. No, Elle could see the foul thing's entire body. It was skeletal; the flesh clinging to its body was hanging, ripped open in some places, cracked, dry and peeling. Its gaping mouth immediately started emitting a sound that was a mixture between sucking and wheezing.

Elle's mind grew darker than ever before and her heart began to shudder. Whimpering sounds came from her throat as she turned her head into Draco. She witnessed again what she had done only moments ago. Her own had had dealt death, only now she could see no reason for the thing she had done, she murdered him in cold blood, unprovoked; as if she had been no better than Voldemort himself. Her mind flew back hours to the scene of the death of her headmaster. It played over and over, as if on a reel. Each time it flickered into her head it dug at her soul even more.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Elle heard Narcissa whisper. A regal swan, silver and wispy, burst forth from the tip of her wand. It flew about, circling them, as Elle warmed and her thoughts drifted back to normal and her body slumped, exhausted, into Draco.

"Take her to the back, over there," Narcissa pointed to a dark corner of the room.

Draco was silent as he carried Elle to where is mother had pointed. He let her down so that she was standing on her own feet, but he was still holding most of her weight as he held her to his chest.

"Draco! What have you done?" his mother hissed, coming to stand very close to the pair, her swan gliding behind her.

"Be quite!" Draco demanded. "We can't be heard."

"This is your girl, Draco? The one you have been thinking of all these years?" Narcissa questioned.

Draco gave no response, but kept his mother's gaze and strengthened his hold on Elle.

"Harry Potter's little sister, Draco! How will you ever get out of this? How will you keep her safe here, when you yourself are not even safe? He will kill her!" Narcissa spoke quickly and quietly.

"I don't know, mother. I didn't mean to bring her here," Draco replied, his voice just as quite but filled with dread.

"He won't kill me," Elle stated, pushing from Draco's arms and scrutinizing the dank room. It was made completely from stone and there were no windows letting light in. The only light in the room came from the swan Narcissa had conjured.

"Of course he will, girl!" Narcissa exclaimed, looking at her like she was insane.

"What good would I be to him dead?" Elle wondered aloud. "None. He will keep be alive."

"What good would you be to him either way?" Narcissa asked.

"She's got all of Dumbledore's information and she'll attract Harry right to him. No way will Potter leave her here," Draco said, his eyes on Elle, who nodded.

"Is there any way out of here?" Elle asked.

"Only the Dark Lord can come and go as he pleases. And he will be back within hours!" Narcissa said.

"There's got to be a way out," Elle mumbled, her face scrunching up in thought.

"There is none," Narcissa stated.

"There's always a way," Elle repeated, ignoring the older witch.

"We must hurry," Narcissa said, ignoring Elle as well. "They will get curious if we linger here too long, Draco."

"Alright, let's go," Draco snapped, taking a step towards the stairs.

Narcissa shook her head, and held her son back.

"She must be chained," she said.

"I am not chaining her up! Those things will have her bleeding in minuets!" Draco growled, thrusting his arm at the chains hanging from the walls.

"If we do not do it we will all die!" Narcissa said, her voice rising.

"She's right. It has to look like I'm being treated just as any other prisoner would be. Or else, everything was for nothing," Elle said, shooting Draco a pointed look.

Draco was pissed; his face was set in stone as he guided Elle to the chains. He sorted through them, and then tapping on some with his wand the cuffs at the end of each chain clanked open. His fingers were feather soft as they ghosted over the skin of her legs, shutting a manacle around each of her ankles. Standing he moved behind Elle, he gently gathered her hair into a ribbon produced from his wand. Then he fitted a larger metal bond around her neck. The chain of it weighed heavily down her back when he released it. Coming around to face her he slipped two bracelet-like strips of metal onto her wrists, tapping them with his wand they sized themselves to fit her skintight. He avoided her eyes as he unclipped the charm bracelet from her and slipped it into his pocket.

When he stepped back from her Elle's hand shot to her neck as she tried to reposition the metal that was digging into a sensitive bruise left from the hands of Greyback. Narcissa was already ascending the stairs when Draco stepped back to Elle and placed a hand on each side of her face.

"Listen to me closely," Draco whispered to her urgently. "Do not mess with them, they will shrink and cut your skin. Do not try to move further than their range or they will burn you. If you attempt magic the ones on your wrists will cause slices to appear on your palms. Just wait, and keep your head. Don't let anything the Dark Lord may say to you get under your skin. If he tells you Harry is already dead that is a lie, do not believe a word he says. And for Merlin's sake for once do as I tell you!"

Elle nodded, the chain around her neck rattling at the movement. Her heart was beginning to speed up again at the thought of being left in the dark alone, without Draco. She clutched at his sides, drawing him closer. He leaned down, placing a slow kiss to her forehead. And then he left the dungeon, leaving Elle in the dark, cold space with just the Dementor for company. As the door Draco had just exited through slammed shut the wheezing of the creature started up again and Elle was thrown back into her despair, fighting the whole time to cling to thoughts that would keep her from losing herself.

Every second that passed felt like years to Elle—years of torture and horror. She had fallen to the ground moments after Draco had left, no longer able to keep standing on her wobbly legs. So she sat, huddled in a corner. Her legs were drawn tightly to her chest and her hands were gripping at her hair. She was struggling desperately to find a happy thought, but all that came to her were useless. Each memory that played itself out in her mind chipped away at her soul a little more than the last.

Her mind was no longer her own. She had no control over where her thoughts led. Elle sat and watched her life progress as though none of the good things had ever happened.

Elle witnessed every time Dudley did something horrible to Harry, felt every time he punched or kicked her. She saw every time Petunia turned her back on the two children that needed her most, influenced by and old grudge and the small mindedness of her husband. Elle remembered the year with the Dursleys that she had had to go through alone without Harry.

Then her mind took her to times at Hogwarts, where rationally she knew she lived happily and was loved. But she didn't see any of that. She saw the petrified faces of her schoolmates, the stony face Hermione as she lay un-lifelike in a bed in the hospital wing. She saw the blood writings on the wall, the deadly snake, and the ghostly image of Tom Riddle. Then Lupin, her godfather, turning into a werewolf, chasing her through a forest played through her mind. The thought that she would lose him grabbing her again, just like it had years ago.

It seemed as though her mind began to falter then, and she could no longer grasp onto whole thoughts, or entire memories. She was left with just flickerings of sentences from people, smudges of images. Elle wanted nothing more than to scream, let her frustration out. Or maybe scream for help, even knowing it wouldn't come.

Then her mind flashed, showing her Draco; laying on the floor of the girls bathroom, in several inches of water, bleeding; helping her through a crowd at the TriWizard tournament her third year when she wasn't able to support herself; his eyes, steely and stressed; how close he sat to her during her detention; him lowering his wand, resigned to die so that Dumbledore may live, not knowing what would be done from that moment to keep him safe.

These thoughts pricked at a place in Elle's mind she never went; to something she hadn't understood fully until only months prior. The prophecy given of her to Hagrid by a centaur named Firenze. This was her deepest secret, but she clutched to it like a lifeline. It would keep her sane, remind her who she was. It was not a happy thing, nor a sad one, and this may be why the Dementor could not hide it from her. Elle repeated it over and over in her mind, and when that was no longer enough she mumbled it out loud, glaring at the Dementor the whole time.

"_Upon the opening of the eight month a girl will be born_," Elle muttered, nodding to herself at how true that was, as the door opened and footsteps were sounding on the stairs.

"_To parents who have thrice defied him_," she covered her eyes with her hand and slid further back into the corner as whoever was coming was getting closer.

"_To the brother he will mark his equal_," she let out a sob, thinking of her brother and how he had no choice in the matter.

Elle looked up, and her eyes locked on Draco's familiar grey eyes. It seemed it had been years ago that she had last seen him, when it really hadn't been more than a few hours. His presence did nothing to sooth her soul though, nothing to rein in the darkness threatening to amass inside her if she so much as lost sight of who she was for a second. He seemed hesitant, like he'd never seen Elle before and no longer new how to approach her. Emerald eyes gazed into his silver eyes unwaveringly, and she whispered, "_To the lover that will turn his back on him_."

Draco dropped to his knees in front of her, hands clutching his head. He made a strangled sound that Elle paid no mind as she went on, "_Rising like the phoenix, a light in the darkness; she will bring hope_."

Neither teen moved as they both struggled with a fight that was at the same time separate and shared.

"_Magic constructs her bones, flows through her blood; it will beg to do her bidding_," Elle was powerful. She had been destined to be. She slammed her fist into the wall beside her; outraged she was so powerful, and yet so weak in that moment, so utterly stuck. Her movement caused the rusted metal binding on her ankles and neck to tighten, slicing into her skin. She hissed in pain, and Draco rocked where he was, groaning and still tugging at himself.

"_Her birth is a gift to the god of war; compensation for his burden, so he may not be unloved_," Elle spit through her teeth as the metal cut into her further. She tried not to let her voice waver with more thoughts of Harry, tried desperately not to believe her own thoughts telling her she would never see him again.

Draco rushed to her as she began to struggle in earnest against the constricting ring around her neck.

"_Upon the stroke of midnight_," Elle gasped as Draco finally gathered his wits and pulled his wand from his jacket, a silver lion bursting from the tip with a roar.

Elle tried to contain the crazy giggle that escaped her lips at the sight of the patronus, but failed. She slumped down the wall, the cuffs growing hot and digging into her raw flesh, as a vision of a more feminine lion trotted through her memory. She was warm and her mind blank, as she allowed herself to lose consciousness; her hand gripping Draco's shirt as he sat before her keeping the Dementor at bay.

* * *

**I wanted this to be longer, but then I was like, "No that'd be mean. Give a girl a break." Let me know what you think. I was very nervous about this one, and considered changing it... but I didn't, so you get it exactly as I want it. =/ Should little girls kill people? No. Elle is much more than a little girl, though. And sometimes a baby's gotta do what a baby's gotta do (Who else watched Rugrats as a child, eh?). Anyways... review, please.**


	12. Reassurance

**Disclaimer: This is redundant. I don't own _Harry Potter_. Get out from under that rock.**

* * *

A hand on Elle's cheek woke her from the restless sleep she had been in. She immediately shot up and away from whom ever had been touching her, remembering only where she was and not who she had been with when she had tumbled into her fitful slumber hours ago. As her head cleared of sleep she searched to room for who had touched her, finding Draco crouching a few feet away where she had just been laying. His sliver lion lying at his feet, shaking it's mane as Draco stepped through it and towards Elle.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Draco said, voice cracking. He rubbed his forehead roughly with his hand, and grimaced as Elle yanked on the chain near her right foot.

"Don't play with them!" Draco snapped.

"I'm not _playing_! They won't stop cutting me. Whenever I move it just keeps getting worse!" Elle snapped back.

"I told you they would do that!" Draco said falling down beside her, making sure not to disrupt the bindings further.

"You Malfoys are…"

"Don't compare me to him!" Draco cut her off. "I'm not him, I'm not."

Elle turned her head to him, finally giving up on her right ankle, and contemplated him for a moment. He was looking even worse than he had at Hogwarts—like he hadn't slept or ate in days. He refused to look at Elle, wouldn't return her gaze. He was toying with his wand, directing the lion-shaped patronus back and forth in front of them. Every once and awhile, when Draco's eyes grew especially dark, the lion's brightness would fade and Draco would screw up his face and jab his wand at it again.

"I know, Draco," Elle whispered, wishing she could touch him from where she was.

He didn't move, just flicked his wand at the lion, and looked anywhere but at Elle.

"What time is it?" Elle wondered, wishing there was a window to let in sunlight.

"It's almost seven in the morning. I'll have to go soon," Draco said, his voice barely audible.

"Is he back?" Elle asked, trying quite hard to sound indifferent.

"Yes," Draco replied. "He'll want to see you soon."

"I'm ready, then," Elle said, lifting her chin and doing her best to look just like she would have it she was back at Hogwarts doing nothing more than having a row with Pansy Parkinson.

"What will you do?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," Elle said.

"Nothing?" Draco repeated, confused.

"Yes. I will do nothing. I can't anger him, or he'll kill me just to be less annoyed. I can't give him what he wants though, so I'll have to make it seem like I don't know anything. I have to act like I'm no more and no less than Harry Potter's little sister. My only chance at keeping alive is him hoping Harry will come rushing in here throwing hexes left and right, not caring about getting himself offed," Elle explained, looking weary.

"Sounds like exactly the thing Potter will do," Draco mused.

"It is exactly the thing Harry would do," Elle sighed. "I'll just have to hope that he'll be kept from doing just that."

"And who would stop him?" Draco asked, picturing the half-moon spectacles of the only wizard who may have been able to.

"Uncle Remus," Elle said. "Maybe Mr. Weasley or Mad-Eye. Maybe Snape."

"Snape? Snape's not on your side. You saw him up there. He didn't do anything to help you," Draco railed, sounding angry.

"Dumbledore trusted Snape. Snape probably knew the plan. He knows not to blow your cover. Dumbledore did this to keep you alive, Draco! Snape would never jeopardize his sacrifice. Just like you didn't do anything not to jeopardize mine," Elle argued.

"Do you believe everything Dumbledore tells you? Everything he thinks? He was a fool," Draco barked.

"Don't you say that, Malfoy!" Elle nearly shouted. "Don't talk about him like you knew him! He was a great man! He died so you could live! Don't dishonor him like that!"

Draco didn't reply. He didn't move, and he didn't look at her. His face was scrunched and he looked near tears.

"Don't, Draco. Just don't!" Elle implored him.

"Don't what?" Draco seethed, finally looking at her. His eyes were full of pain, remorse—he looked so lost in hatred of himself that Elle was scared he would be the one to loose himself here, not her. So she beckoned for him to come to her.

Draco inched closer to her, minding the chains so as not to cause her any more harm. But Elle paid them no heed; throwing her arms around Draco she grabbed him tightly and urgently.

"Don't let them win," she elaborated. "Don't let them know they've got you. Don't blame yourself, Draco, for things you have no control over."

"Things I don't have control over?" Draco muttered. "I had control. I could have said no. I could have handed you off to the first Weasley I saw in those halls. I ran right past McGonagall!"

"And then what? Then you would have been killed. There is no guarantee that doing that would have saved anyone," Elle told him. "It's in the past, Draco. And we'll get through this. There's nothing else you could have done."

"I should have done anything! Anything to keep you from this place! Now you're in my own home, and I can't get you out," Draco said, clinging to Elle.

"I'll get out, don't mind me. Just don't let it be for nothing, Draco. He was so important, don't let him have saved you only to do yourself in," Elle demanded.

Draco pulled away, again giving her no reply. But she saw in his eyes a new determination to live up to whatever Dumbledore saw in him, and protect Elle however he could. He was at the bottom of the steps when he turned around and sought her eyes again.

"He will come, though. Won't he?" Draco asked, his voice quiet.

"They will come. Yes," Elle nodded, lifting her chin higher still.

"Never thought I'd see the day where I was looking forward to bloody Potter coming in and saving the day again," Draco grumbled.

"It's what he was born to do," Elle managed a giggle. "He just can't stop himself."

With a roll of his eyes Draco left the dungeon and the lion vanished. Elle was immersed once again in a terrible, cold, dark, illusion.

Hours passed slowly with Elle fighting all the while against the effects of the Dementor. It was growing harder the longer she went without a break and against her own will her thoughts started focusing on Voldemort. She was unsettled by the fact that he had not yet come to see her, and she was beginning to worry that he may just kill her straight away after all.

Panic seized her as she thought of nothing but the dark wizard's cruel smile forming the words of the killing curse. Imagining him finding out that he had been deceived, the rage that would take over him as he killed any who dared look at him. She feared for Draco, everything that had been done would be lost and he would too lose his life.

The door to the dungeon slammed open and a ray of light streamed in, blinding Elle momentarily. She could hear one set of foot falls on the stone steps leading to her prison and a sound as though a cloak was slithering along behind the first set of feet.

Her eyes adjusted just as the steps and slithering came to a halt before her. For a moment she did not look up to see who had come, she stared only at the cobbled floor just in front of cloak-clad person's feet.

Resignation settled into her heart and she cleared her mind, she thought just the scared, horrible thoughts of an extremely ordinary teenage girl. The only thoughts of her brother were of wishing he would save her. The only inclination of Dumbledore was in her mourning of his death. Draco was not present in her thoughts at all, for if she could not show hate for him it was best that she show nothing at all.

"So, Draco, not only did you complete the mission I assigned you, but brought home a souvenir as well," Voldemort spoke low, in a voice that always held the underlying sounds of a snake's hiss.

It was not a question, though, and Draco did not answer, knowing Voldemort's game well enough. The teen merely stood to the right of Voldemort, sneering down at Elle, pretending to be proud of his actions.

"Elle Potter," Voldemort continued. "Where is my dear friend Harry? Did he not want you anymore?"

Elle looked up, meeting the eyes of Voldemort in person for only the second time, and then looked away again. She pulled her legs close to her chest and fiddled with the rings around her ankles, doing her best to appear broken.

"Wouldn't Harry be so disappointed, seeing you fall so quickly, broken so fully after less than a day?" he smiled, enjoying toying with his prey. "I had heard you were an extraordinary talent, more powerful than that silly older brother of yours, and smarter too. They say you are the best witch to ever set foot in Hogwarts.

"But here you are, in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor; covered in your own blood, cowering like a scared little animal. I thought you were in Gryffindor? The home of the foolhardy and stupidly brave. Where is your courage now, weak one? Where is your strength? I had imagined you would face me like your brother; that you would rise despite your obviously meek situation and pose a fight.

"I am disappointed. You are nothing like him. Not an ounce of will left in you. How disgusted they would all be, their precious Elle clinging to herself in a puddle of her own filthy blood. Why will you not fight me?"

Elle said nothing, did nothing. Anger was boiling in the pit of her stomach at the insults he threw at her. But she did not fight. She knew there were times to fight, and times where fighting would get you killed. And Elle needed desperately to live through this.

"What do you suppose we do with her, Draco?" Voldemort asked, glancing at the taller wizard, who had said nothing as of yet.

"My lord, I believe she will be of no real use," Draco said. "She is obviously not what she is rumored to be."

"I agree, Draco," Voldemort agreed. "However, on the off chance she knows something I will search her mind, yes?"

"Yes, my lord," Draco murmured.

Elle gasped aloud as she felt the presence of Voldemort in her mind. He did nothing to make it less painful, like Dumbledore when he had practiced with her. After the smallest fraction of a second, though, Elle began to pummel Voldemort with her memories and thoughts, showing him what she wished for him to see; doing just as Dumbledore had instructed her. Voldemort searched and searched but never saw anything that would give Elle away, nothing that would hurt the Order. As long as Elle stayed one step ahead of him she was the one in control of her mind.

"She really is useless," Voldemort said, withdrawing his probing from Elle's mind.

Elle sagged against the wall, hiding the small victorious smile on her face.

"May I ask, my lord," Draco piped up. "What shall you do with her if she is of no use? Kill her?"

"No, no, Draco," Voldemort replied. "I won't kill her yet. I think that maybe she will do us better if she lives, draw Harry here hopefully. Oh, how much easier that would make the whole thing on me. I do detest trailing the little brat around."

"So keep her in the dungeons then?" Draco asked.

"Draco, you have done me well," Voldemort said slowly, contemplating what he said. "You deserve a reward."

"Reward, sir?" Draco asked, confused.

"Take the girl," Voldemort said. "She is yours to do with as you please. I suspect she would make an excellent slave. You're a man now Draco; you have needs, why waste such a creature if the opportunity comes along?"

"Y… Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord," Draco spluttered, looking shocked and like he didn't have a clue what to do with Elle.

"You will go far, Draco. I am appreciative of what you have done. You will serve me much better than your father," Voldemort stated.

"Of course, my lord," Draco managed to get out.

"I have business to attend to. Naturally, you are in charge while I am away," Voldemort told him. Then he spun on the spot and vanished, with a last snake-like flick of his cloak.

Draco walked over to Elle, who was staring wide-eyed up at him. As he neared her she shuffled away, looking aghast. Shaking her head violently she held out and unsteady hand to tell him not to touch her.

"I won't," Draco vowed, his voice thick with the stress of the situation. "I would never, Elle, never use you that way. Never do what Greyback… I promise."

He caught her eyes, and she saw his sincerity; had known it all along deep inside. He stepped forward and took her hand, gently helping her to her feet. As she rose blood dripped from the hem of her dress, sliding down her legs and mingling with the blood stemming from the cuts on her ankles. It oozed as well from her neck, down her chest and back, matting the tips of her hair and staining her skin.

Neither uttered a word as Draco knelt and tapped each cuff with the tip of his wand, unlocking them and letting them fall to the floor. He stood and noticed Elle's hand on the band around her neck, how her face was screwed up in pain. She fought, though, against letting any sounds slip out to display her agony.

"You don't always have to be so strong, Elle," Draco whispered. "It's okay to hurt."

She kept her quite though, her Gryffindor pride maybe getting the best of her, as Draco removed the last manacle. Once she felt the weight taken from her neck her hand shot up to touch the wound, but Draco's stopped her before she could feel it.

"Don't. We need to clean it, make sure it's not going to be infected," Draco said, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm going to carry you," Draco told her, catching her around the shoulders and the back of her knees before hoisting her up.

"I can walk," Elle mumbled, but made no real effort to free herself.

The assent from the dungeon and through the kitchens and rooms to where Elle could recognize her surrounding was slow, Draco trying not to jostle her or get her blood on anything. As they began to climb a flight of stairs Elle stiffened as Bellatrix made her way down them.

"What are you doing, Draco?" she asked snappily.

"The Dark Lord has given her to me as a slave," Draco stated coldly, feigning indifference.

Bellatrix made no further comment but tugged sharply at Elle's hair as they passed each other.

"Horrid witch," Elle grumbled, shivering with revulsion.

At the end of a long corridor that was filled with more paintings of Malfoy ancestors Draco pushed open a large oak door. It led into a large room, which Elle surmised to be his own. In the center was a large bed, covered with black and silver silk drapings and comforters and sheets. To the side was a small sitting area with a black leather couch and matching chair. A glass table with silver legs was in front of the couch. Adjacent to the bed was a large desk and wardrobe.

Draco carried her through the room to the other side, where there was a door leading into a private bathroom. He sat her carefully on the counter near the sink. From a cupboard beneath where she sat he pulled two small potion vials.

Handing her one that was filled with a red liquid he said, "This is a blood replenishing potion and this other one will fight infection and work to heal everything up."

Elle took the first vial and swallowed the contents in one quick gulp, pulling a face that made Draco snicker. The second solution was a murky green color and tasted even fouler than the first.

Elle felt better almost instantly and looked down at her legs to watch them heal. As they mended bits of rust and dirt were pushed from her skin, falling to the floor.

"They'll scar," Draco told her quietly.

She looked up at him quickly and turned to face the mirror. The wound around her neck was already healed, and it its place was a new bright pink scar. She lifted her hand and rubbed it, looking forlorn, and smearing her blood around more.

"Can I shower?" Elle asked.

Draco nodded, showing her to the bath and handing her shampoos and soaps.

"Don't take too long," Draco requested. "You could still faint from lack of blood. You'll have to take another dose of that potion after few hours, and one for infection as well."

As soon as the door clicked shut Elle unfastened her dress and pulled it from her body. She felt a bit of bile rising in her throat as she watched the blood that had been caked and dried onto her and the dress flake and fall to the floor. Stepping into the shower she was glad to finally feel warmth spread over her body again. She gazed at the water swirling to the drain as it turned pink and brown and it wiped the evidence of her torturous time in the dungeon away.

She stayed in the shower longer than she probably should have, and didn't get out until the water no longer soothed her. Stepping out she felt an odd sense of disconnectedness, she was not cold, nor warm. She felt slightly empty, void of any real emotions at all. As her head began to swim with waves of dizziness she gathered her resolve to leave the bathroom and face Draco again.

Wrapping herself in a large green towel and turning her nose up in a rather silly manner at the blood stained dress on the floor. She waltzed out into the bedroom, head held high, feeling really quite ridiculous and embarrassed at her predicament she announced, "I'm going to be in need of some clothes."

She noticed after her awkward request that Draco was no longer the only person in the room. Narcissa was eyeing her from her place on the sofa as Draco strode to her and handed her a large black shirt.

Feeling she had a right to be indignant she muttered, "I'm not a house-elf," under her breath. Nonetheless she slipped the shirt on over top of the towel and was pleased to note that it at least fell to the middle of her thighs.

Placing the damp towel on what she guessed was a hamper she moved towards the sitting area and hesitated, playing with the ends of her hair as Narcissa turned her attention back to Draco.

"This is going to be very precarious, Draco," Narcissa stated.

"I am well aware, mother," Draco replied.

"You're going to have to act like you care for her no more than you would care for a house-elf or the like," Narcissa explained to her impatient looking son.

"I know, I know," Draco snipped, pacing to where Elle stood, looking about the room trying to pretend she wasn't there.

"We need to figure a way to get you both out of here," Narcissa said.

"There isn't one. We'll just have to hope Potter finds out where she is and forces his way in to take her back," Draco replied.

"And if you slip up before then? If your feelings for the girl show and someone sees?" Narcissa said, rising from her seat.

Elle, feeling increasingly awkward with each of Narcissa's sentences, shuffled until she was able to hide, quite successfully in Elle's slightly boggled opinion, from her view by standing behind Draco.

"What are you doing?" Draco quipped, twirling around to face her.

Elle's mouth dropped open in surprise and she couldn't have thought of anything to say to save her life at that point, so she just gaped at him knowing full well she looked something akin to a stupefied codfish.

"Mother, leave us would you? We'll figure something out," Draco said, still staring down at Elle.

"Fine, Draco. But be careful. You'll have to do this perfectly if you both want to make it through this with your lives," Narcissa warned and then was gone.

Draco took Elle by the shoulders and steered her to the couch where she plopped down and continued to stare randomly about the room, feeling quite like she was finally experiencing what it must be like to be Luna.

"Here," Draco said, pressing a large bar of chocolate into her hands. "You look more confused than Longbottom during potions."

Taking a bite of the proffered chocolate Elle felt her typical emotions returning to her, now feeling nervous about how she'd manage to not get herself killed. Suddenly she thought it might have been better to stay holed up in the dungeons; they seemed safer as she realized the full implications of her new situation.

"So, where do you normally keep your slaves?" Elle asked looking for another door that maybe led to a smaller room.

"I've never had a slave before," Draco snapped. "And you're not my slave; we've just got to make it look like you are so we don't get ourselves killed. I supposed he meant for me to keep you with me at all times. I don't think he'd want you running lose all over the house."

"'Spose not," Elle said quietly, still feeling dizzy.

"Go lay down and rest for a while. You have to wait a before you can take more potions," Draco said, gesturing to the bed.

"What? Where?" Elle looked up at him, wondering if he really meant what she thoughts he did.

"In my bed," Draco replied, looking uncomfortable.

"And what will you be doing while I sleep?" Elle asked, scrutinizing him.

"I've got things to see to in the mansion with the Death Eaters. I need to make sure all of them know that you're to be considered my property from now on and that they're not to harm you. And I've got instructions to pass on from the Dark Lord," Draco said, shifting his weight back and forth.

"Say his name, Draco," Elle demanded. "Don't give him more power over you."

"I'm not brave like you Gryffindors," Draco replied.

Getting up from the couch Elle walked over to the large bed. Crawling up into she snuggled into the sheets and thought it was the most comfortable bed she had ever been in.

"That's my side," Draco told her, walking towards the door. "I'll be back this evening with food and the potions."

As Elle scooted over she watched his back as he left the room and fought the urge to call him back. But after rolling over she didn't even have time to wonder about her feelings for him before sleep took her.

It felt like moments later to the small, red-head sprawled out in a tangle of down comforters and silk sheets that she was awoken again by the tall blond that had been swirling about in her dreams.

"Dinner," he said gruffly, shoving a plate into Elle's hands.

"Sleep," Elle muttered trying to shove it back.

"No, eat, Elle," Draco replied, tapping her fully awake.

She watched him walk away with his own plate to the chair, where he sat down and stared unseeing at the table before him for a few moments. Deciding to join him Elle hopped off the high bed, hoping she looked more graceful than she felt, and sat down across from him on the couch, pulling her legs up underneath herself.

"What's got you in such a foul mood?" Elle prodded as he looked up at her.

"I don't particularly care for my new job," Draco huffed, taking a bite of his food.

"I have bad news," Draco told her quietly.

"I'd have only been surprised if you told me you had good news," Elle said, earning a glare from Draco.

"Holidays start tomorrow," Draco began.

"And they're going to expect me to plan all the reindeer games?" Elle asked, this time earning nothing but a baffled look from the man across from her, who decided to ignore her and continue as though she hadn't spoken at all.

"Which means we will be having guests at the manor," Draco continued.

"Are Death Eaters fond of Twister at all? I'm rather good myself," Elle mumbled, wishing the dizzy feeling would wear off so she could concentrate on what he was actually saying.

"The Parkinsons will be arriving early tomorrow morning," Draco finished. "Along with the Notts, Crabbes, and Goyles. That means the whole families will be staying, they come every year."

"Crabbes and Goyles," Elle giggled. "Hope they know their names sound like venereal diseases."

"Elle," Draco snapped. "Pay attention. Pansy will be here tomorrow."

And finally what he was saying grabbed her attention and her face morphed into that horrid codfish-like expression again.

"Parkinson is coming to stay?" Elle gaped.

"Yes, and I don't think she'll be wanting to have a friendly game of Twister, or whatever, with you," Draco said, looking tired.

"I wouldn't play Twister with her if my life depended on it!" Elle exclaimed, looking offended at the idea of it.

"Quit talking about Muggle games! That is not the point!" Draco said before rising quickly from his seat and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.

When he came back into the room he handed her two more vials of potions, which she drank happily, hoping they would help in restoring her IQ. Draco reclaimed his seat and watched her finish her meal, refusing to talk to her until she was done and the potions had had time to take some effect.

"As I was saying," Draco said once she was done and staring at him expectantly. "They will all be arriving tomorrow morning. I will need to be up to great them and will be spending the days with them."

"What'll I do?" Elle said, trying her best not to look like she had imagined having Draco's attention to herself, and ignoring the part of her that wondered by she cared at all.

"You'll have to come too, and act like a servant," Draco mumbled.

"Can I go back with the Dementor?" Elle asked, looking hopeful.

"No," Draco said with an air of finality.

"Why is your patronus a lion?" Elle asked suddenly, wanting to leave the topic of new guests alone, and pretend it wasn't going to happen.

"That's just the form it takes," Draco said, looking away from her.

"Why would a Slytherin's patronus be a lion?" Elle continued. "How very Gryffindor of you."

"I get compared to Gryffindors an awful lot," Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Gryffindors and Slytherins are more alike than they like to admit," Elle said.

"What's your patronus take the form of?" Draco asked. "A snake?"

"That would be ridiculous," Elle responded.

"So what is it? I heard Potter's was a deer," Draco said.

"A stag," Elle clarified.

"You're avoiding my question," Draco said, sounding annoyed.

"A lion," Elle said, tipping her head to the side and holding his gaze.

"Same as mine?" Draco asked, confused.

"No. Female," Elle told him.

"A lioness?" he confirmed as Elle nodded. "How fitting."

Elle rolled her eyes at him and turned to look out the window. The sky was black with only the moon shining through the cloud cover.

"Full moon," Elle said, more to herself than Draco.

"Good thing you killed Greyback, he never did take that potion," Draco said.

Elle turned angry green eyes on Draco, displaying clearly that she did not think killing him was a good thing.

"It wasn't good," Elle stated. "It was necessary."

"I couldn't agree more," Draco conceded.

They sat in silence after that. At times they would regard each other and others they would stare off, thinking their own private thoughts. Just as Elle was wondering if Draco planned on staying up all night he rose and began getting ready for bed. Taking that as a cue Elle padded back over to the bed, ready to sleep off thoughts of spending her holidays cooped up with Pansy Parkinson and surrounded by Death Eaters.

She watched as Draco went about his routine, feeling like she should have felt weirder about it. He climbed into bed moments later wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Putting out the lights with a flick of his wand darkness settled over them and then the strangeness cropped up.

Elle laid on her back, as much distance as the bed would allow between her and Draco, fiddling with her own fingers and feeling silly that while captured by Voldemort her biggest problem seemed to be getting over the fact that she was in the same bed as a boy.

The mansion seemed eerily quiet to her as time went past. She could hear the murmurs of voices coming from floors below and footsteps in the hallway outside their door. Her breathing started to pick up as the reality of her situation crashed back into her, no longer stymied by loss of blood and dizziness.

"Calm down," Draco said quietly from his side of the bed.

"I'm completely calm," Elle defended growing antsier with each passing second.

"Come here," Draco whispered.

Elle could hear rustling of the sheets and blankets as he moved around. It didn't take her long to meet him in the center of his bed, took her even less time to situate herself flush against his body with his arm securely around her.

"I won't let anything happen," Draco assured her, but her breathing was already steady; she was in no need of reassurance.

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**Quick update, heck yeah. Leave a review. =) **


	13. The Meaning of True Bravery

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_, if I did I'd get paid to write and I wouldn't need to go to college and I'd have so much more time to write. =(**

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"Wake up," a groggy voice said in Elle's ear, and she felt whatever she was resting on squirm.

Flipping over to get away from whatever was disturbing her sleep she said in a loud, disgruntled voice, "Bugger off, Dudley, or I'll give you another tail."

"I don't know a Dudley," the voice said and she felt the bed move. "Wake up, Parkinson will be here soon."

"Parkinson doesn't know how to get to Little Whining," Elle said burying her face in her pillow.

"Good thing for Parkinson you're not in Little Whining," the voice said from the other side of the room.

Elle sat up, looking around the room and her head drooped as she remembered where she was and who was about to visit.

Scooting out of bed she made her way to where Draco was standing in front of a mirror. It was the first time she had looked at her entire body in days. It was easy to see she had lost weight in the short amount of time she had spent in the dungeon. The scars ringing her neck and ankles stood out vividly pink against Elle's lightly tanned skin. She turned away from her reflection to look up at Draco, who had been watching her.

"What am I supposed to wear?" she asked, fingering the black tee-shirt she wore, glad with herself that she still had pride enough not to walk around in front of Pansy nearly naked.

"I'll transfigure the shirt," Draco said. Pulling his wand from his pocket he made a swishing movement down the length of Elle's body and she began to feel like shirt shrinking to fit her form. When the spell was complete she was left wearing a black dress with wide straps on her shoulders that stopped mid-thigh just like the shirt had.

Twirling his wand again he produced another ribbon for Elle's hair, and she wondered if he had never heard of elastics before. Walking away as soon as her hair was tied she went to stand next to a window that looked out on a large garden area at the back of the manor.

"We need to head down," Draco said. "They'll be here any minuet."

He walked over to her and placed at hand on the nape of her neck. Whether the gesture was for her comfort or his own she wasn't sure, but she refused to acknowledge the goose bumps that had risen on her skin from the contact.

"Then we'll be having brunch with them," Elle could hear the sigh in his voice, and was positive that if she were to turn and look at him she would see his brow creased with apprehension.

After taking several bracing breaths she squared her shoulders and spun to face Draco. As she had predicted he was looking down at her, his eyes betraying just how much he wished they didn't have to deal with the new arrivals. She was surprised when he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly, and it took her a few seconds to return the hug.

"We're going to have to pretend really well," Draco mumbled into her hair. "I'll have to fake not caring for you and you're going to have to act like you're broken. Don't let anything Parkinson says get to you; we're safer if you show no strength. If the Dark Lord thinks you're strong he'll take you from me; he'll torture you. I can't let that happen, Elle."

"It won't, Draco," Elle promised fervently.

"Alright. Let's get this over with," Draco said, placing a soft kiss to the crown of Elle's head before stepping away from her and gliding out of the room without a backwards glance at her, entering his role of faithful Death Eater lieutenant.

Elle followed Draco from the room. She made sure to trail behind him with her head down, watching her bare feet as they crossed the marbled floors and descended the grand staircase. She didn't raise her head once, playing submissive and wrecked almost well enough to make her want to smile.

The closer they got to the foyer where Elle had first appeared within the mansion her heart began beating faster, images of Greyback playing through her mind's eye. Her pace quickened and she was soon too close to Draco, but the boy didn't acknowledge her, didn't even glance in her direction. She heard him whisper her name so lowly she nearly missed it, but it brought her some comfort and afforded her with the strength to clear her mind and slow her steps.

They came to a halt in the middle of the room and stood facing the large entrance doors. They stood quite still for what felt, to Elle, to be an excruciatingly long time. She wanted desperately to move closer to Draco, to feel the heat coming off his body. To her the mansion seemed terribly cold, and she was positive a wind was blowing inside, purposefully creating a very foreboding atmosphere.

As she stood, bare feet growing numb from the cold of the alabaster marble floor she was standing on, the air right in front of the doors began to swirl. It looked as though the concentration of magic in the house was shifting, preparing to allow something in that would normally be rejected.

Elle's body stiffened in preparation for the guests she was sure would be appearing in only seconds. Guests she knew would enjoy torturing her, reveling in the fact that she was damaged and apparently a whore to their newest prince. Rage billowed inside of her, knowing she was no more than a prisoner and would have to take whatever was dished to her by witches and wizards she was much stronger than. However, that was not the only reason for the emotions accumulating within Elle. Mingling in with the rage, and the desperation and longing to be home, was a new form of agony. It was not yet formed, it was lying in wait, but Elle could feel it; ready to claim her at a moments' notice.

The agony she would feel the first time Draco did nothing to stop Pansy from laying a hand on her. The agony she would feel each time one of his friends referred to her as his slut, and he let them—or even boasted about it. The agony she was sure would grip her, and begin to slowly sink its teeth into the just healing mental wounds she had already suffered here. The agony, the utter destruction and pain she would have to endure seeing Draco act as though she were nothing more than the half-breed, scum, brat little sister of the Boy Who Lived that the Slytherins always told her she was. It was the only thing that may be able to truly break her while she was here. Draco was the only one with power enough over her to leave her ruined in his wake. She hoped she was strong enough to remember that it was a lie; that he was on her side; that he had just as much at stake as she did.

Even though Elle had been expecting, them the four simultaneous bangs that echoed through the room caused her to jump slightly. Her head snapped up, her shoulders stiffened and her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She held her breath in anticipation of being noticed for the first time and managed to quell the urge to hide behind Draco's much larger form in order to go unseen.

Elle was noticed right away, however. Eleven pairs of eyes took in Draco for a second before slipping past him and onto Elle.

The murky brown eyes of Pansy Parkinson were the first to settle upon her, the first to widen in surprise and the only that narrowed in suspicion. This threw Elle off guard, she didn't think there was a reason Pansy should be looking at her as though she was a threat, or like she knew something was off about the situation. Elle has expected the surprise, at least at first; the Slytherins would have known that Elle had gone missing the night Dumbledore was killed. Elle was sure the Gryffindors had placed some sort of blame onto their shoulders. But Elle was mystified as to the reasoning behind the look Pansy was pinning her with.

"Draco," the man who had been standing behind Pansy stepped forward, extending his hand in Draco's direction. His head was bowed slightly, offering his respect to the younger man.

"Mr. Parkinson," Draco responded with a nod, clasping the proffered hand. "How are you?"

"Not as well as yourself, I'd say," Mr. Parkinson chortled to himself in a nervous manner, his eyes shifting over Elle as he said it.

The look sent chills down Elle's spine. Phantom fingertips ghosted around her neck, pulled at her thighs. Words from what seemed a lifetime ago swooped down, claiming her, chilling her heart, haunting her soul,_ "Who taught you how to play, my pretty?"_

Elle's attention was brought back to reality by Mr. Parkinson tugging his hand from Draco's grasp. He shifted sideways, rubbing his hand and muttering under his breath. He was looking up at Draco with a new emotion in his eyes; fright. He backed away, returning to the spot he had been in before.

Elle glanced at Draco from the corner of her eye. His jaw was set, the muscles clenched tightly, and his eyes were cold.

"I am doing quite well," Draco stated, his voice as cold as his eyes.

Draco kept his cold demeanor as he greeted the rest of the adults present, thawing out only slightly as he shook hands with Theodore Nott. The guests remained silent as Draco instructed them on the parts of the manor Voldemort had restricted anyone from entering.

He continued these instructions for several minutes, but Elle blocked it out. She stood idly behind him, having returned her head to its bowed position, wondering how much time she'd have to spend in Pansy's father's presence.

Elle had lost track of how long she had been standing there, her mind blank other than musings about how to get out of spending any time with the Death Eaters and how cold her feet were, until she heard someone call her.

"Potter!" Draco snapped.

Elle looked up, noticing for the first time that Draco was now on the other side of the room, the eight adults standing behind him. He was looking at her as though he was angry.

"Take my friends to my room," he stated, and Elle guessed that he had already asked her to do this.

Elle gaped at him for a moment, every eye in the room on her. She had not expected to be left alone with anyone; she had thought she would always be with Draco. It took her longer than it should have to get over her shock, but eventually she managed a nod.

Turning to the four teens standing in the middle of the room she opened her mouth as if to say something, preferably something along the lines of "this way" or "follow me." But nothing polite actually came to mind, so she gave an odd wave with her hand and turned and walked off in the direction of Draco's bedroom.

She didn't look behind her once to make sure the others were following her. When she reached the door that would lead into Draco's, and subsequently her, room she turned the knob and pushed the door wide, standing aside so the group of Slytherins could enter before her.

Pansy entered first, heading straight to the couch at the far end of the room, as though she had been there a hundred times before. Elle, realizing that she probably had been, had to subdue the urge to punch the older girl in the face.

The three boys followed her over, both Crabbe and Goyle knocking into Elle with their meaty shoulders as they walked past her. Nott joined Pansy on the couch, sitting far enough away from her that there was room for only the two of them. This left Crabbe and Goyle to slouch down to the floor and slump, stupidly (in Elle's opinion), against the wall.

Elle entered the room, not joining the Slytherins, but staying on the other side of the room, the bed between her and them. She stood, not knowing whether it would be considered inappropriate for her to sit on the bed, and stared out the open door way, hoping to see Draco emerge through it soon.

She sent a silent thank you to Merlin and the Muggle God, just for good measure, when Draco appeared not even four minutes later. His eyes swept the room as he strode in; softening slightly as the surveyed Elle for a split second. Elle hoped it went unnoticed by Pansy and Nott; she figured Crabbe and Goyle were to troll-like to notice a Sphinx standing in front of them, let alone someone showing an emotion.

He said nothing to her, though, joining the gathered teens. He sat down on the leather chair and kicked his feet onto the table before him. He did not address anyone, but closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head, reclining in the chair.

They all sat in silence for a few moments; Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle looking at Draco, while Nott glared at a spot on the floor. It was Pansy who broke the silence.

"So it's true? You killed Dumbledore and kidnapped Potter?" Pansy asked, though it was more a statement than a question.

Draco opened his eyes slowly, and looked over at her.

"Obviously," he said.

"No one in Hogwarts is actually sure who killed the old whack job," Pansy sniffed. "Rumors are flying that it was your dad or Miss Bellatrix."

"Doesn't really matter what they think happened," Draco drawled.

"You're not interested in what the Gryffindors have been up to?" Nott spoke up.

Crabbe and Goyle were watching the conversation, looks of utter confusion on their faces, like they had no clue that their headmaster had been murdered. No one bothered to explain it to them.

"I'm sure they're up to their typical delusional save the world nonsense," Draco replied nonchalantly. It had piqued Elle's interest, though, and she wondered if they knew where she was.

"Potter's having a right fit," Pansy said almost gleefully. "Storming about the castle in a rage, looking even more tortured and worried than usual."

Elle's breath caught in her throat, and tears pricked at her eyes.

"Pinned me to a wall yesterday, shouting about the girl. Demanded to know where she was," Nott added, very little emotion in his voice.

"Weasley and Longbottom attacked Crabbe and Goyle. The girl Weasley lost Gryffindor a hundred points for calling Snape a Death Eater in class. Loony Lovegood keeps exploding things on accident every time someone says her name. The Mudblood docks points from everyone who mentions it and is always crying; she got me for fifty points for saying they deserved what they got. McGonagall started sobbing last night at the feast when she gave a speech talking about how we should remember them and keep hope that the girl isn't dead. She threatened to have me expelled for saying I hoped she was," Pansy rattled off, clearly enjoying the suffering of those she was talking about.

Tears were sliding down Elle's face, dripping from her chin onto her chest; but she stayed silent. She did not look up to meet any of the eyes that had shifted to her during Pansy's rant, nor did she attempt to hide her pain. She told herself it was not weak to grieve, not for her and not for her family and friends. It did not really show that she was broken, like she knew the Slytherins would think it did. To her it symbolized that they were still strong, still fighting. They were living up to the standards Gryffindors kept. By grieving they were showing they were courageous enough to stand despite the pain they felt, courageous enough to hope that she was still alive. She told herself it meant not that they were weakening, but that they were gaining strength. All she could do was hope she wasn't deluding herself, and try to keep alive; and so she let them see they hurt her, let them think she was fragile. They didn't know; didn't know what it was to be truly brave, to let your enemy see your weakness but not drown in it, to keep your head up while pretending it was down. They didn't know, Elle assured herself, just what was in store for them; they didn't know what it was to be Gryffindor.

"They're keeping the castle open, then?" Draco mused. He hadn't spared a single glace in Elle's direction during Pansy's tirade, but acted as though she wasn't there, as though she was nothing, no more than a house-elf, or possibly less.

A last tear slipped down Elle's cheek, dropping from her chin, sliding down the hollow of her throat and disappeared down her chest. She wished that she was alone with Draco. She wished she could ask him if he cared, if he got the same sick pleasure Pansy did hearing how her brother was suffering. She wished he would just look at her the way he had when he had first arrived.

Elle steeled herself and raised her chin just enough to see him from under the lashes of her eyes. He was not making eye contact with Pansy, or any of the others. He was leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his head resting in his hands. Elle allowed herself to take a deep breath; he was uncomfortable with the conversation. It relaxed her to see him like that, it helped her remember that he was on her side, it showed that inside he was bothered hearing these things.

Before Pansy could continue talking he turned his head to Elle for just a moment before straightening in his seat and taking back his air of uncaring.

Pansy blabbed on, not having noticed Draco's discomfort, "Yes. McGonagall said that it was Dumbledore's wish for the school to remain open as long as there are students still willing to attend, or something similar. I don't pay the old bat much attention. Father and Mother are considering not sending me back after the holidays. There's really no reason to go back there."

"What would you do if you didn't go back?" Nott asked. He looked confused about why she wouldn't want to return to the school.

"Not everyone loves Hogwarts that way you do, Theodore. Most Slytherins don't want to return, let alone have attended in the first place," Pansy said, eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at Nott, and then at Draco, who was paying her little attention.

She swiveled slightly in her seat to face Elle, her eyes holding the same suspicion as before. Elle did not meet her eyes, nervous that Pansy may be able to see through her façade and ruin the small amount of safety she was provided by being Draco's slave. Instead Elle glanced at the two buffoons slumped against the wall. They were staring up at Draco as though he were more important than Voldemort himself; it made her wonder where their loyalties really lay. Did they follow Draco because he was so trusted by the evil wizard? Or did they follow him out of genuine friendship? She couldn't tell.

Elle's eyes flicked back to Pansy, who was still glaring at her as though she were trying to light her on fire with her eyes. Then Elle noticed something very odd. Two boys in the room were glancing concernedly between the suspicions Pansy and Elle, trying her best to blend into the wall behind her even with three sets of eyes upon her.

Theodore Nott's eyes sifted over his female housemate then to Elle before landing on Draco, his eyebrows rose as he motioned so insignificantly to the two girls that no one but the blond would notice. Draco caught the motion and held Nott's concerned gaze for only a moment before addressing Pansy.

"Parkinson. Do you have a problem?" Draco asked. His voice was low and confidant, the way Elle had often heard him speak to people while at Hogwarts.

Pansy's eyes flew to Draco, still narrow, still looking like they knew too much. Elle sucked in a deep breath and her eyes were caught by Theodore, who jerked his chin at her in a small sort of nod.

"Yes. What is going on here?" Pansy demanded.

"What do you mean, Parkinson?" Draco quarried, managing to keep his voice level.

"Her! Potter! Why is she here?" Pansy's voice rose with each syllable.

"She was captured by Bellatrix the night I killed Dumbledore and the Death Eaters invaded the castle," Draco explained in a clam voice.

"Why would she be captured? Why would Miss Bella want her?" she pressured.

"She was trying to protect the castle. Surely you saw all of those Dumbledore's Army freaks running about trying to save the day?" Draco responded.

"Of course. But why does she matter?" Pansy continued, not placated by Draco's evasive answers.

"Bellatrix wanted to bring her to the Dark Lord. She's Potter's sister," Draco stated.

"But why is she _here_?" Pansy cried, pointing her finger in Elle's direction and then around the room.

"She is being kept here because the Dark Lord believes that Potter may attempt to get her back, in affect drawing Potter away from The Order so he can be eliminated," he told her in a lazy, bored voice.

"You know what I mean, Draco!" Pansy yelled, standing from her spot on the couch.

"Calm yourself, Parkinson," Theodore snapped, glancing at Draco, who was still seated but looking more and more angry with each passing moment.

"I want to know why she's here, in your room, following you about! Tell me! I deserve to know!" Pansy continued as though Theodore hadn't said anything.

"That, Parkinson, is none of your damn business," Draco told her, sounding on the verge of raising his voice himself.

"Not my business? _Not my business?_ Of course it's my business! You have some whore in your room! What are you doing with her? Why is she here? I saw the way you watched her at Hogwarts! The way you never insulted her! Why is that, Draco? _Why is she here?_" Pansy hissed, taking a step closer to where Draco was sitting.

Elle watched, silent as possible from where she was, a look of shock on her face. She felt like darting from the room, searching for a way out; she considered for a second that trying to fight her way out may be her only option now. She was about to take a step towards the door when she saw Draco rise slowly from his seat.

Standing, he was a good six inches taller than Pansy, and each inch became more noticeable as he strode towards her until they were almost touching. His face was set in nearly the same murderous expression he had worn when Elle was being attacked by Greyback. Muscles in arms stood out as he clenched his fists at his sides; he was quite intimidating.

"No, Parkinson, it is not your business. I am in charge here, in place of the Dark Lord. You have no authority, nor do you have some kind of claim over me. I am free to be with whom I wish, I was let out of the contract between our parents for our union when I gained rank above them. As to what I do with her; that is none of your business, she is mine to do with as I please. The Dark Lord is aware of her presence; he gave her to me as a reward. Mind your place, Parkinson, before you are no longer welcome here," Draco seethed, his voice cold but calm.

Pansy was shaking. She nodded her head jerkily and took several steps back from where they had been standing. Draco retreated back to his chair, his demeanor morphing to the perfected look of composed indifference.

Elle felt like sinking to the ground, in order to hide behind the bed. Draco did not look at her, and her mind was swirling with what he had said about her, _"As to what I do with her; that is none of your business, she is mine to do with as I please… He gave her to me as a reward…"_ Bile rose in her throat; this is what she had feared. As he said it she couldn't help but believe it may be true; that the only reason he had been helping her was to keep himself from the wrath of Voldemort.

A think silence hung in the room for what felt like hours. Draco didn't move, he stayed reclined in his chair, eyes closed, ignoring the rest. Theodore sat glancing around the room, from Draco to Pansy to Elle, occasionally at Crabbe and Goyle, who were still doing nothing but looking beefy and confused. Pansy still stood where she had stumbled to after Draco had yelled at her, the same stupid look of shock stuck on her face.

Elle stayed where she was, watching the Slytherins in front of her. Thoughts were hounding her about Draco and whether or not she could trust him. She started when Pansy finally seemed to gain control over herself again. Just as she was about to sit back down Draco spoke up.

"I have business with Theo. Parkinson, go down to the kitchens and tell them to send me my meals up here. Take Crabbe and Goyle with you. Don't come back until you're called for," he ordered.

Pansy didn't say anything, but huffed and quickly lead Crabbe and Goyle from the room. On her way out she slammed the door, causing Elle to jump and Draco and Theodore to share an amused look.

"What really happened?" Theodore asked as soon as the footsteps of the three who had left couldn't be heard any longer.

Draco didn't answer straight away; he ran a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh before leaning back into his chair. He gazed ahead unfocused before turning his head in Elle's direction. She was still standing where she had been, and finally raised her head when she felt Draco's eyes land on her. Draco motioned for her to join them.

Elle hesitated briefly, her eyes shifting over Theodore and back to Draco several times before she walked slowly over to the seating area. She faltered as she reached them, not sure where to sit, but after what she figured was a reassuring look from Theodore she perched herself on the edge of the couch beside him. She settled in awkwardly, her body facing towards Draco, but her eyes flickering over Theodore.

"Elle," Draco called her attention to him, which she reluctantly gave by focusing her eyes on him. "Theo can be trusted; he's my best friend—loyal to me, and he's not interested in the Dark Lord's ideas, just like me. We're all stuck pretending to in order to save our lives…"

He was cut off by Theodore adding, "In order to eventually help the Order."

Elle narrowed her eyes and swung her head to glare at him, asking bluntly, "How do you plan on helping us if you're just sitting around here doing nothing?"

"We'll join you whenever the time comes. Draco will know his every plan, his every desire, his strengths and weaknesses," Theodore offered, looking slightly taken aback by Elle's expression darkening the more he tried to explain himself.

Elle snapped her head back to Draco, giving him a look that clearly conveyed she thought they were deluded.

"You think you know Voldemort?" She demanded, enjoying the slight flinch she saw Theodore make from the corner of her eye.

"I think I'll know what he plans if I stay here. I hold no pretenses about actually knowing him," Draco said, glancing at Theodore.

Elle shook her head, snickering at the two Slytherins, and fell back into her seat with her arms folded over her chest.

"You think you know more than we do? How would that be possible? If anyone knows his secrets it would be a Slytherin, which you obviously aren't," Theodore accused, not liking Elle dismissing his plan so thoroughly.

"Dumbledore," Elle stated as if she were stating the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? What about him?" Theodore asked, befuddled. He looked from Elle to Draco, who seemed to have understood her clearly. When it became clear no one was going to expand on what Elle had said he continued, "What does Dumbledore have to do with it? He's dead; how could he be any help?"

Draco and Elle winced simultaneously at the mention of their dead headmaster. Then both maintained their silence; Elle reluctant to say more and Draco not wanting to divulge information that was hers alone to share.

After a long silence and a quick look at Draco, Elle sat up and held her hand out, palm up, to him.

"Wand," she requested, growing impatient.

Not questioning her Draco tugged his wand from his pocket and placed it in her outstretched hand.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Theodore gasped, trying to get as far away from Elle as possible while still staying on the couch, as Elle pointed the wand at his forehead.

"Quit moving," Elle demanded.

"No! What are you doing? Draco, what the bloody hell is she trying to do?" Theodore asked, ducking away from Elle again.

"She's probably going to block your mind," Draco said, glancing at Elle who nodded in exasperation.

"Block my memory?" Theodore stuttered.

"So the Dark Lord is unable to pry information from you about anything said here," Draco explained.

"That's really advanced magic. Can she really do that? What if she does it wrong?" he complained.

"Of course she can do it," Draco said, beginning to grow irritated with his friend as well.

"Quit talking about me like I'm not here," Elle snapped. She then muttered, "_clausus procul votum_."

A wisp of pearly light swooped out of the wand Elle held flowing to Theodore. It wrapped around his head, and then shrank until it disappeared. Elle then turned at tossed the wand back to Draco, who caught it and began the conversation again.

"What do you know?" he asked Elle.

She didn't answer, just shook her head and told him, "Nothing that could be of use in this situation."

"Do you actually know anything?" Theodore asked, earning a glare from both Draco and Elle. "Okay. Fine. Are you going to tell me what actually happened?"

"What are they saying at Hogwarts?" Draco asked in response to his question, half avoiding it.

"They're saying your dad and Bellatrix led an assault on the school, with your help to get in. They think your dad killed Dumbledore and that Bellatrix kidnapped the girl—Elle," Theodore told him.

"Why are they saying Bellatrix took me? I'm sure Draco was seen taking me from Hogwarts. I know Harry saw that. He was dueling Bellatrix, trying to get to me," Elle said, confused.

"That's the weird thing," Theo said, leaning towards Elle. "I've heard them discussing it. Potter is adamant that Draco wouldn't have taken you. He says it must have been someone else's plan and you were forced to go along with it."

"Why does he think that?" Draco asked.

"I don't know, mate. All I know is Potter is sure it wasn't you," he replied.

"Where does he think I am?" Elle asked, doing her best to keep the pleading, hopeful sounds from her voice.

"Granger is convinced you're here, at Malfoy Manor. Potter isn't convinced, he said something about how that would be too lucky," Theodore told her.

"That's good, though," Draco said, locking eyes with Elle.

"How is that good?" Elle asked.

"He's not lost his mind. He's still at school. And it sounds like he's listening to Granger. For some reason he thinks you'd be safer with me than somewhere else. They'll try here before anywhere else," Draco said.

"Why would he think I'm okay with you? He doesn't have a reason to trust you," Elle said, more to herself than to Draco.

"Think about it," Theo spoke up. "Potter is always paying attention to you; no matter what he's doing he knows what you're doing too. He's not stupid. I'm sure he's noticed over the years that Draco has treated you like an actual human being, and never like everyone else in the castle. Draco's always been sloppy when it's come to you; that's how I noticed."

Draco avoided the eyes of the other two in the room while Theo explained his theory about Harry's comfort in having Elle with him. Elle shifted, uncomfortable with the current topic of discussion. She preferred the conversation not to stray any further to her undefined relationship with Draco, or lack thereof; she was confused about the feelings she was experiencing and those she thought she was sensing from Draco.

"So," Theo began, noticing that he may have stepped into a topic that was currently out-of-bounds. "Tell me what really happened."

"I couldn't do it," Draco whispered, meeting Theo's eyes.

"You didn't kill Dumbledore?" Theo mumbled.

Draco shook his head, his grey eyes darkening as he turned them to Elle. She avoided him by staring out the window across from her, trying to maintain a blank look on her face. The last thing she wanted was for Theodore Nott to see her start weeping over someone he probably thought was inconsequential.

Looking away from Draco did not stop the goose bumps from rising on her skin as she felt his gaze, which held both hints of his own mourning for the death of their headmaster and the curiosity he felt over Elle's involvement that she had yet to explain to him.

"Wait," Theo said in a shocked voice. "Elle—you killed Dumbledore?"

Elle nodded, keeping her eyes directed away from either teen in the room with her. A single tear trickled down her check; she wiped at if furiously, not wanting to seem weak to them.

"What? Why?" Theo asked, his voice still airy from the shock of finding out it had been Elle who murdered the old professor.

Elle shook her head, her tangled red hair flying out around her; for a moment she looked as though she'd caught fire. She moved from the couch to Draco's large bed; she lay down in the center and curled in upon herself. Her shoulders shook and her chest rose and fell with intense grasps for air. Her eyes stung with tears, but they did not fall. Elle told herself they could not fall; she wished to be past them—to be able to face her present predicament without tears clutching at her throat and dripping from her chin. She wanted to be strong, like her mentor, and like her brother. Like her parents had been.

Theo turned to Draco for an answer; but none came. Draco shrugged his shoulders; his eyes glued to Elle's back, watching the muscles in her back tighten in tandem with the ragged gasps he could hear her struggling for.

"This is so messed up," Theo sighed quietly, talking low enough that Elle could not hear. "What are you going to do?"

Draco pulled his eyes from Elle and back to Theo, dropping his head into his hands and pulling at his hair before meeting his best mate's eyes and whispering, "Whatever is necessary to keep her alive."

"You need to get her out of here," Theo stated.

Draco nodded, clenching his hands into fists, but did not respond.

"Do you have any plans?" Theo pushed on.

Draco sighed deeply, saying, "Potter will come."

"And if he can't get through the barriers? If he comes while the Dark Lord is here? There has to be a better way," Theo mused, sprawling out along the couch.

"What would you do?" Draco snapped, his grey eyes growing stormy.

"We have to find a way to try and help Potter get in here, on a day when the Dark Lord is gone," the other boy answered, paying no heed to the cutting tone his friend had used.

"And how do you suggest we'll manage that? Send him an invitation?" Draco muttered sulkily.

Before Theo had the chance to respond to the biting remark a house-elf appeared in the room with a loud _crack_. Elle shot up from the bed, grasping around her in a vain attempt to find a weapon. Upon seeing the elf, who looked, much to her disgust, like he was quite possibly a relation of Kreature's, she stilled her movements and listened as he addressed Draco in a voice that was contractually both wheezy and squeaky at the same time.

"Master Draco," he said, bowing so low his body was bent nearly in half. "Nasher has lunch for you, he does."

With a quick snap of his boney fingers two trays appeared on the table; one in place before Draco, the other in front of Theo. Nasher turned his head to Elle, a nasty glint present in his mud colored eyes. He enjoyed her being refused food.

"Nasher brings requests as well. You is to be eating dinner in the grand hall, like normals. Mistress Narcissa says you may not be eating up here again. We is to receive the Dark Lord back tonight," the elf said, in an air that was much more formal than Elle had ever experienced with a house-elf.

Draco nodded his head to let the elf know he had heard and understood him, and at that the house-elf disappeared from the room.

The three remaining stayed quite for some time; Theo picking at the food Nasher had brought, while Draco ignored his completely and let his eyes linger on Elle, who was motionless on the bed. She was wondering what it would be like to have to go to dinner with a room full of people who she knew were plotting the demise of her brother; to be in the same room for a long period of time with the wizard who had murdered her parents and who had annually attempted to finish off the rest of the family for the past five years. She cringed at the thoughts, attempting to push them away and looked up and straight into Draco's troubled grey eyes.

She could feel him scrutinizing her with his gaze. It was making her feel disconcerted and awkward, things she normally wouldn't have felt, but she knew she looked awful, and she was positive that was what was putting the pained expression on his face. She could see the guilt he carried pressing down upon his shoulders and could see the effects their situation was having on him as well.

His attention stayed focused on her. His eyes traveling from her face to her neck, where they lingered on the new pink scar that ringed it. She noticed his eyes narrowing and his mouth tightening before he tore his eyes from the scar and led them downward further where they took in the sight of her sunken in collar bone and down further to where she knew he'd see the scars on her ankles and the deteriorated size of her thighs and claves.

She made no move to join him in the scrutiny of her body. Just sat and watched his face become more and more excruciated. She was startled when finally he made a quick gesture that suggested he wanted her to come to him. She rose form her position on the bed and moved towards him quietly, hoping that Theo would not noticed them and look up from his meal. Elle wavered when she was within a foot of him, not sure what he had really meant for her to do once she had gotten to him.

"Sit down," he commanded. "And eat."

She fell back onto the leather couch and stared at Draco for a moment before asking, "What about you?"

"I'll eat at dinner; it's only a few hours from now, probably less because we've been up here so long. You won't be given food then either, so eat now," he said, his voice tired and stressed.

Draco pushed the trey of food towards her and she complied with his wishes, deciding he was probably right.

Theo cleared his throat after Draco had withdrew his attention from Elle's eating and continued the line of conversation they had been discussing before lunch had been delivered to them, "About your idea of sending Potter an invitation…"

Elle jerked her head up, looking alarmed, and said, "Send Harry an invitation for what?"

"Nothing," Draco sighed. "I wasn't being serious Theo."

"I know you weren't," Theo muttered, and then continued, "But I believe the idea has merit."

Elle and Draco sat quietly; staring at Theo as though he had gone insane. Draco looked on the verge of yelling, however Elle looked nothing more than baffled and slightly concerned.

"What are you talking about," Draco asked, slowly, enunciating every syllable.

"What I mean is; we need to send Potter a letter, let him know as much as we can," Theo replied, looking slightly weary of Draco's accumulating anger.

"He'll think it's a trick," Elle said quickly, brushing off the idea without a second thought.

"What? Why?" Theo asked.

"Never trust something if you can't see where it's keeping its brain," Elle muttered.

"What does that even mean?" Theo asked, looking at her like she was the oddest thing he'd ever come in contact with.

"They won't trust it. Harry might, but The Order wouldn't. They'll think it's a trick. You can't just trust a letter; not if you aren't positive it's from a reliable source. And they won't think it is, we don't use letters to communicate," Elle explained.

"Even if we did write him a letter, we wouldn't be able to send it," Draco added. "Nothing goes out of this building unless the Dark Lord wills it, not even the most insignificant spell."

"When the holidays are over I'll be leaving," Theo said.

Elle stared at him, dumbstruck, a smile starting to form on her face.

"You can take it to him personally; at Hogwarts," she gasped.

"That doesn't solve The Order not trusting it problem," Draco said, in a rough voice.

"The Order won't have him then, he'll be at school. If there's ever been one thing we're unstoppable at it's sneaking out of Hogwarts," Elle said, a smile spread across her face.

"How can you be sure they can manage that?" Draco asked.

Elle caught his eye and smirked, a rather good imitation of the one Draco normally wore around at Hogwarts.

"Getting out is the easy part," Elle said, while Draco just looked at her unconvinced. "It'll be getting in here that will be the hard part."

"Well," Theo injected. "I'm going to leave the letter's contents to you two. I'll be heading to my room now, to prepare for dinner."

Theo left the room trying to maintain the air all the Death Eaters strutted about with, but Elle was almost sure that she heard him grumbling under his breath about a hard Charms essay he needed to work on.

The focus that Elle had been able to procure during the discussion of her brother began to fade as her eyes settled on the window opposite her. Outside, snow had begun to fall for the first time since Elle had been taken from Hogwarts. It fell, she noticed, like typical snow; like it was light enough to float on air, but it, like everything else, must eventually fall. And so fall it did, with a swooping, and swirling grace until it flitted along the ground and finally came to rest atop another flake of snow. It was with a slight jolt of surprise that she noticed the difference between this snowfall and others she had seen; this snow was not wholly white, but polluted with something—something that gave it a greyish tint.

_"Dark magic, like all darkness and all dark things, leaves evidence in its wake, no matter how carefully it is covered; one must only be able to recognize the signs. Come, my child, think; what could be a sign?" _Elle heard the voice of Dumbledore resounding inside her mind. He had impressed this particular teaching upon her from her very first meeting with him in her first year. Dumbledore had always been teaching her how to find indications of the Dark Arts, always pressing upon her the importance of understanding it; understanding the concepts behind it, how it was produced, the feel of it, the way that it seemed to flow differently than her own magic, and how it appeared to linger, always leaving an imprint that was impossible to eradicate entirely.

The snow was contaminated with Voldemort's magic, Elle realized. The whole of Malfoy Manor was invisible, untraceable, and unplottable on any map The Order may have, because it was protected by the strongest type of dark magic available in their world. But of course, there would be something to indicate the location of Voldemort's strong hold.

"Even if it is just the slightest whisper, like a memory you can barely recall; it is still there," Elle murmured aloud.

Draco turned to her, his head cocked to the side, curious about why she had spoken aloud something that didn't make sense to him, something that seemed out of context.

"What does that mean?" Draco questioned.

"I think I've found a way to help them find me," Elle said, sounding astounded.

"How?" Draco asked

"The snow is grey," Elle pointed out.

"So? It's sooty," Draco remarked, not understanding.

"Dark magic can never be covered completely," Elle explained. "There is always something there to suggest of its presence. Always. Harry will understand."

"We can only hope," Draco said quietly.

His contemplation of Elle did not end once she had fallen silent again. He regarded her, his face remaining open and showing his curiosity. Elle sat quite still, returning the look until he broke his silence.

"Can you explain a few things to me?" he asked while getting up from the chair and moving to sit beside her.

Elle examined his face, knowing what he would ask. If she were to allow him to question her she would have to explain things to him she had not even mentioned to Harry, or anyone else. He held her gaze, his steel eyes reassuring. She flicked her eyes away from him and to her lap, her chin dipping in the slightest nod.

Draco appeared to contemplate his question for a moment before settling on, "Why did you do it?"

"Kill Dumbledore?" Elle confirmed.

Draco nodded, and then placed his hand on the nape of her neck once again. He waited, patiently for Elle to gather herself enough to explain.

"He asked me to," she whispered.

Elle turned to Draco again, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. His expression held the hints of his sock as he took in what she'd said. His brow creased and his hand on the back of her neck tightened for a moment before his fingers fluttered to her hair.

Before he could question her further she continued, "At the beginning of the school year he informed me of your plan, the instructions you had received from Voldemort. I have known since then. He asked me to kill him in your place, so that your soul would not be harmed…"

"My soul? How was my soul in danger?" Draco interrupted.

"When you murder someone in cold blood, Draco, a piece of your soul is ripped from the rest. It kills a bit of you," Elle said, her voice holding hints of sadness.

Draco ripped his hand from its place on her and surged to his feet. He crossed the room in two quick, long strides and rounded on her. His eyes nearly black, glowering at something Elle couldn't comprehend.

"And he was alright," Draco growled, his voice low and predatory, "with you sacrificing yourself in my place? He would have your soul shredded in place of mine? I would have never let you…"

Elle did not rise; she kept control over her voice as she broke through his rage, "That's what I felt at first too. Why me? Why my soul? What did you do to deserve that? And why could he not just win whatever battle you had? Why must he die?"

Draco's full concentration was on her as she spoke, and slowly his breathing leveled and he returned to his seat beside her.

"For two reasons," Elle went on. "For you; for he did not believe you would kill him. He believed—wanted you to fail. To save you. And he was already dying. He had sustained a curse witch would not be removed. It would kill him anyway. So he asked me to step in if you were to fail, as he hoped you would. To kill someone upon their wish or in self-defense, it subverts the splitting of the soul. My soul would remain intact."

"But he could have had more time. Isn't he needed to destroy the Dark Lord?" Draco probed.

"He is not," Elle answer, her voice stiff.

"How? How will it be done without him?" Draco continued to press.

"Harry will do it; it has always been meant for Harry to do," Elle said, her voice portraying how much she wished she was speaking a lie.

"The prophecy they talk about?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Elle confirmed.

"But, Potter, he's good. But is he enough?" Draco wondered.

"It doesn't matter, it must be Harry," Elle said in a tight voice. It was evident to Draco she was concealing something, and that she would not share it under any circumstances.

Draco allowed it to drop, not wishing to hurt her in any way. He moved then, to his next question, "When I came to the dungeon to sit with you, what were you saying?"

Elle had known this would be his next question, but she was unsure if she would be able to recite it to him; to let him know her prophecy. It was the thing she had guarded most closely for so long, and she had only begun to fully understand it at its completest.

She locked eyes with him, not quite sure why she was trusting him, of all people, with her biggest secret, with something that could effectively cement both of their futures, but she felt compelled to do so.

She sustained their locked gazes, so that she would be able to read his expressions as they gathered on his face, as she recited it from memory, "_Upon the opening of the eighth month a girl will be born; to parents who have thrice defied him; to the brother he will mark his equal; to the lover who will turn his back on him. Rising like the phoenix, a light in darkness, she will bring hope. Magic constructs her bones, flows through her blood; it will beg to do her bidding. Her birth is a gift to the god of war; compensation for his burden, so he may not be unloved. Upon the stroke of midnight she will come._"

Draco sat, his face stunned and unmoving, his eyes darkening again as his pupils dilated. He searched her face, while going over what she'd said in his mind, trying to fathom what it meant.

"Is that a prophecy?" He asked, slowly, after some time.

Elle nodded.

"Yours?" Draco questioned, his voice low again.

Elle nodded again, unable to say anything further or pull her eyes from him.

"What does it mean?" Draco continued to push.

"B-best we can figure, it means I'm supposed to help Harry by protecting the world while he tries to get rid of Voldemort," Elle stumbled over the explanation.

"A girl will be born to parents who have thrice defied him?" Draco said, considering the phrase.

"James and Lily Potter or Frank and Alice Longbottom, but they don't have a daughter," Elle said hoping he wouldn't get to the part she was dreading.

"The brother he will mark his equal? That was part of Harry's prophecy?" Draco questioned.

"Harry or Neville," Elle nodded jerkily.

She tried to stand from the couch, to move to the other side of the room, but Draco rose alongside her and caught her, whirling her to face him. They were just inches apart.

"To the lover that will turn his back on him?" he said, so quiet it was scarcely audible.

Elle said nothing; she just stared up into his eyes and managed a nod.

"So Nott or I?" Draco ground out, doing his best to decipher the emotions in Elle's sparkling green eyes.

"Huh?" Elle said, her brain taking a few seconds to break through the haze of what he'd said.

Draco chuckled, a sound that came lowly from the back of his throat, and placed his hands onto Elle gently; one at the dip of her back and the other on her cheek and drew her towards him.

Elle's breath hitched, and for a moment she panicked, a host of thoughts pounding into her mind at once, all too fast for her to catch and hold on to. She settled for gripping onto Draco's forearm and the hem of his shirt.

She clamped her eyes shut just as his lips met hers. Her heart was hammering and she felt like she'd lost touch with any coherent thought she'd ever had, so she let him lead her, responding to his movements in an uncharacteristically submissive manner. She gasped when he trailed his tongue along her bottom lip and then pulled at it gently with his teeth, his hand on her back pulling her even closer to him, and she began to return his ministration in a more active fashion, standing up on her toes and putting a hand onto his chest.

Elle was shocked when he pulled away from her and strode angrily to the door and flung it open.

"What is it?" he demanded of his house mates, who were standing on the other side of the door. Elle hadn't heard them knock.

"We were sent to tell you you're expected to be downstairs in five minutes for when the Dark Lord arrives," Pansy sniffed, her voice revealing how important bringing this missive made her feel.

She was about to continue until she noticed Draco's disheveled appearance and her eyes rounded on Elle behind him, her cheeks flushed red.

"You better clean up, or you'll smell like a half-blooded whore," she snapped, attempting to circumvent him in order to get in the room. "I'll help you."

Draco's knuckles where white from clutching the door knob too hard, but all he did was roll his eyes and scoff, shoving Pansy back into the hall.

"I can handle it myself, Parkinson," Draco said, closing the door on her face.

He turned and stalked to the wardrobe, yanking his shirt off as she went, the buttons breaking off and skirting across the floor of his room.

Elle stood frozen in place, watching him, thinking she had been completely forgotten. Her eyes were watering, the words "half-blooded whore" bouncing painfully around in her head, along with the thought that Draco hadn't denied it. Her arms wove around herself and she began to quake in effort not to sob, trying to regain her confidence that it was just an act.

She hadn't noticed Draco slip on the green button up shirt or the long Death Eater robe, and was taken off guard when he disentangled her arms and slipped them through the arms of a matching green shirt.

As he buttoned it closed over the dress she was already wearing he whispered to her, "Don't give Parkinson a single thought, and don't ever think of yourself as that. It's nowhere near an accurate depiction of what you mean to me, Elle. Brush it off, just like you would have before. You're still better than her. You've always meant more to me."

He stepped back and touched his wand to the collar of the shirt she now wore and transfigured it into a dress. It was strapless, simple and long, flowing about her feet, a deep emerald that matched Draco's shirt almost too well. The black dress she had been in before had disappeared.

Re-pocketing his wand he grabbed her hip and drew her to him. He kissed her again, soft and slow, like a reminder of how he felt poured into her.

Breaking away he looked into her eyes and said, "More than anyone else."

Then Draco turned and walked briskly from the room, Elle trailing in his wake, thinking that maybe bravery wasn't a quality only the Gryffindors had access to.

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**I am soooooo unbelievably sorry that this has taken me so long (exactly 60 days since chapter 12) to get to you all. I have a few excuses, all of which are boring, sucky, and real life related. But I would just like to say I never meant for it to take so long, and I'm back at it (though I have tests coming up _again_ =( )! I promise (cross my hearts, hope to die) that I will get this story back on track! I would also like to thank all of my readers and reviewers, especially those that wrote me and told me they missed me and wanted me to come back =). And I've been soooo behind on this I haven't gotten back to hardly any one, including the always astounding WhatsGoingOn who made me another banner that I loved about Elle's prophecy. I super heart you guys! =D I hope you enjoy! 3  
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	14. You're It Everything

**Disclaimer: Proud owner of one sibling who is currently making clucking noises, one who is getting ready to be a high school graduate, one who is obsessed with his iPhone, and one who parties too much. I do not, however, own _Harry Potter__._**

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Elle tensed as Draco pushed open a large set of double doors, unsure of what to expect once they crossed into the room at large. He glanced back at her for one small second before storming his way into the dining room, Elle stumbling to keep up with him.

Inside was a long table made of maple wood, carved elegantly along the sides and on the legs of the table were the designs of snakes, some with eyes of sparkling emerald. Atop the table were dozens of place settings, shining silver as light struck them, and glasses made of flawless crystal. Elle struggled to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the sight, convinced there wasn't a single room in the house not adorned with the likeness of a snake somewhere.

Along both sides of the table stood the Death Eaters, draped in their robes, their wives and children seated beside them, dressed instead in either gowns or dress robes, more expensive looking than anything Elle had ever seen. At the head of the table Voldemort stood vigil over his followers, his eyes lighting hungrily once they landed on the approaching figures of his lieutenant and his captive.

Draco strode without hesitance to the seat at the farthest end of the table, closest to Voldemort on his right hand side. He greeted him with the slightest of bows. Elle stood tentatively behind Draco, eyeing the vacant seat next to him, wondering if she was meant to sit. Noticing that it was the only spot along the table for which there was no place setting, she figured that it had, actually, been meant for her. She cautiously stepped forward, aligning herself with Draco and the Death Eater next to her, who, she was disappointed to see, was Peter Pettigrew.

"Let us be seated," Voldemort's high voice said, interrupting Elle's internal debate on the pros and cons of breaking Wormtail's nose.

With a flick of his wand high-backed chairs appeared behind each of the people gathered at the table. Elle took her seat immediately, only to be drawn roughly back up by Draco's grip on her upper arm. A shocked sound of indignation slipped from Elle as she whirled her head around to Draco.

But he did not return her gaze; his eyes were glued to Voldemort, who had a sinister looking quirk about his mouth, as though he found something amusing but had long ago lost the ability to smile or laugh. Elle's eyes swept the room confused, no one had moved to take their seat yet, even though Voldemort had asked them to be seated; they were all staring at her like she had just committed a crime, or spoken aloud some kind of ridiculous riddle.

"You may be surprised to find," Voldemort spoke, all the attention of those present turned dutifully to him, "that unlike the Muggles you were raised by, and the blood traitors you so willing listen to, that here we uphold a certain sense of propriety; rules, if you will, that are meant to convey respect and order."

Elle did not respond, deciding that it was best to hold her tongue if she were meant to appear respectful of their order. She merely watched as Voldemort took his seat, the Death Eaters remaining standing around him. She was then surprised to note that Draco was the next to sit, while the rest still stood. For a moment Elle wondered if they were really all going to take their places one at a time, and thought how utterly unreasonable that would be, when at last the remaining Death Eaters and their families sat down in unison. Elle waited for the last of them to be settled before sliding into place beside Draco.

As soon as everyone was seated a door in the corner of the room burst open and house-elves began to scurry about the room, bringing food to the table. They were almost noiseless. Some, like Nasher, seemed to be more at home in the environment than the others, who carried their trays with shaky hands and stared solely at their bare feet. They were completely ignored as they sat their burdens onto the table and then vanished again through the door to the kitchens. As the last one disappeared Elle felt a vague sort of recognition, but shook it off as Voldemort began to address his disciples.

"This is the earliest chance we have had to gather together to celebrate our most recent accomplishment; the death of Albus Dumbledore," he said. "Draco, you have my most sincere compliments on a task well done. I never believed you would fail, of course."

Draco nodded his head in thanks of the praise he was receiving. Only Elle noticed the taught muscles of his neck, and the clamping of his jaw.

"Furthermore they brought to me a much unexpected gift. The sister of Harry Potter," he said, motioning to Elle. Mummers swept the room, but Elle pretended not to notice they were discussing her like she was some sort of trophy; she crossed her legs and kept her face indifferent by reciting the first 34 rules of the Wizengamont in her head.

"It is my hope that her presence here will draw the Boy Who Lived to me, so that I may finish him once and for all," Voldemort said.

All eyes, save for Draco's, turned to Elle, hoping to see some sort of reaction from her. Elle bit the inside of her lip and began to list Dudley's video games in alphabetical order. Voldemort's head quirked to the side in confusion and his eyes narrowed in her direction, obviously thrown off by her mental activities as he was interpreting them, so Elle switched to remembering all the afternoons she and Harry had spent playing them while the Dursleys were gone, in a mournful manner for Voldemort's sake. His interest waned.

Voldemort continued on, while all the rest listened carefully and silently ate their meals, "It has been a curiosity of mine for quite some time now, little Elle Potter, if the spell placed over your brother and yourself the night your mother died faded from you the same way it did from him when I used his blood to resurrect myself."

He stood from his chair, his continually fluttering robe slithering around the bottom of his feet, and walked around the table, coming to a stop behind Elle's chair. Elle sat straight, her body rigid, and looked determinedly ahead of her. Her eyes met the gleeful face of Pansy, who was so excited about the Dark Lord's threatening position behind Elle she was leaning forward, as if it would provide her with a better view.

"I wonder; can I touch you now?" he hissed.

Elle's chair was jerked backwards, pulling her out from the table. Voldemort spun to her side, his hand outstretched and moving closer to her temple. She could feel Draco's eyes on her, causing her flesh to prickle and heat; she wished that he would look away.

Voldemort's finger touched down just above her eyebrow; it felt like ice, but burned at the same time. She heard him take a sharp inhale of air as the burning sensation began to grow more uncomfortable. Elle felt a prick as his jagged fingernail made contact with her skin, trailing down and across her temple; he continued to add pressure, his nail slicing her skin open as it went.

Elle jerked away from him, her body falling back and making contact with Draco's; the fever on her skin cooled instantly, but the cut began to well with blood, that seeped down the side of her face. She stared at Voldemort, who was now some ten feet away from her. His red eyes were seething with anger. He had been thrown back as soon as Elle moved to get away from him.

The air around Elle began to shift, lifting her hair and swirling it around her like the beginning licks of flames in a newly lit fire, her dress shifted and twisted. Voldemort's eyes grew wide and he attempted to take a step towards her. Everything in the room stilled suddenly as he was halted by a disembodied voice flowing through the room.

_"My daughter. My only daughter. You cannot kill her. She is too great for you. She is precious. She is loved! Do not! You cannot!"_ The voice was both male and female, intertwined and enchanting. It echoed around the hall; desperate, definite, and fuming.

"I touched her! I cut her!" Voldemort returned, speaking to something that wasn't truly there.

A new voice spoke, even more familiar to Elle than the voice of her own parents, "_You cannot kill her. She is too great, too strong, too pure. She is precious. She is loved. You cannot kill her."_

Voldemort stood, seething. His eyes never strayed from Elle as he stalked towards her. He came to a halt inches from her and bent to make his face level with hers, rasping, "I cannot kill you, they say. So the protection lingers, faintly, in your blood, Littlest Potter. It does not mean that others cannot kill you if I were to will it," Elle noticed his hand on Draco's shoulder tighten and his eyes flick over Bellatrix, who was humming madly and nodding rapidly. "Do not begin to think yourself safe. I am more powerful than you will ever dream of, precious, little Elle."

His breath washed over Elle's face, smelling of blood, one more time before he quickly retreated from her and back to his seat. The revelation of the spell that still lingered over Elle did nothing to hinder his boasting, for he assured the rest that he had never wished for her death, that it was her life that was important to his newest plan.

The meal didn't continue for long; it was not much more than twenty minutes later that Voldemort finished his food and called for the rest to be done as well. As soon as the last person had laid down their silverware the kitchen door flew open again, the house-elf flooding through.

They were easier to see this time, lacking the large trays they had initially carried into the room. And it was with a sudden jolt of horror that Elle understood why the elf from before had felt familiar to her.

He was standing across the room from her, his huge, round eyes fixed on her. He mouth was agape, evidence of his surprise of seeing her. His hands were clasped before him, wringing, and he twitched all over; his responsibility to her insisting he bow, and his disdain for her attempting to keep his spine straight.

"KREATURE!" Elle screamed, her voice thundering through the hall.

With an abrupt jerk he bent forward, his long nose touching the ground and his ears flapping with the quickness of the movement. Elle could see his lips moving, tracing curses he could no longer utter about her.

"Kreature is so surprised to see his mistress. He is," his little body convulsed, as he choked over his words, "He is so h-h-happy to see her."

Before she realized what she was doing she was out of her chair, racing around the table in his direction. She had forgotten who surrounded her until she felt an overwhelming pain overtake her entire body and she slammed to the floor, still several feet away from Kreature.

The wrinkled elf's eyes looked from her limp body to a figure standing over her, terror and confusion swimming onto his face. Elle followed his gaze, unsurprised to see Bellatrix's wand pointed at her. In the background Elle could hear the room buzzing and see a horde of silhouettes massing around Bellatrix and Voldemort.

"Stop her! Stop her, Bella!" Voldemort ordered.

As quick as she could with the pain still reverberating within each of her bones and muscles, Elle pulled herself up and launched herself the rest of the way to Kreature. She caught him by the wrist and pinned him to the ground.

"What have you done, Kreature? Why are you here?" Elle demanded, her head as close to his ear as possible, her voice low enough to not be overheard.

_"Vicuim!"_ Bellatrix screech before Kreature had the chance to answer her.

Elle moved to cover the trembling elf with her body, her grip on his wrist tightening as a conjured whip snapped across her back, the entire force of Bellatrix's strength behind it. Kreature let out a squawking sound, his eyes filled with tears as he trembled beneath Elle.

"Kreature was told to leave, so Kreature comes here. He hasn't done anything! He promises, he does!" Kreature sobbed.

Bellatrix shrieked with glee as the whip sliced through the air and onto Elle's back again. Elle lost her hold on Kreature, who moved away from her as fast as he could, trying to distance himself from the flying cord. She felt the dress she wore rip under the force of the blow, followed by the skin and muscles of her back shredding with an awful noise. The floor around her was already slick with blood as the whip was brought down three more times.

"The elf, kill it!" Voldemort commanded.

Biting the inside of her cheek Elle struggled from the ground, her bare feet slipping in the pool of her blood. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the crazed witch grin and aim the whip at Kreature's cowering body where he was attempting to make himself as small as possible against the wall.

Just before the whip hit Kreature Elle flung herself to him, encasing the hysterical elf in her arms. Her back left exposed, the whip cut though her again. A strangled sob broke from both Elle and Kreature at the same time.

"Go back to Harry, Kreature. Don't ever come back here again," Elle gasped.

Seconds later, with a loud crack that Elle didn't hear, she was holding onto nothing but air. She lay on the floor, her vision blurring, feebly aware her face was in a puddle of blood and that with every ragged intake of breath some of it was being pulled into her lungs, causing excruciating coughs to rack her chest.

She only caught snippets of the conversation going on around her.

"Elf… Dead…?" a voice she didn't recognize said.

"Gone… Ordered… Dying… Draco?" a female voice inserted.

"My Lord… Done?" Draco's voice shook her consciousness.

"Leave her," a voice giggled.

"No," Elle finally heard Voldemort speak, his voice now devoid of any interest. "Draco's… You may… I…"

Elle vaguely heard the sounds of the Death Eaters leaving the room and the doors banging closed behind them. She felt her body lifted from the ground, knowing it was Draco she clung to him as he awkwardly carried her to his room. The walk felt much longer than before, even the smallest of Draco's movements sent shockwaves of pain tearing through Elle's whole body.

The next thing she was aware of was Draco placing her on her feet, in what she groggily assumed was the bathroom in his suite. He stood behind her so that if she wobbled she could not fall, and began rifling through a cabinet, curse words pouring from his mouth.

Finally he pulled three tiny glass decanters out and set them on the countertop. Elle wondered why she had never noticed that the marble was scarlet before. Her disjointed musings were stopped when Draco took one of the vials and began to pour its contents down her throat, a lot of it spilling down her front because of the difficult position Draco was in, still behind her with one arm encircling her waist and the other endeavoring to get the draught into Elle's mouth. He repeated the process with the remaining two containers; when he was finished Elle felt steadier on her feet and her mind was gaining its focus and clarity back.

Elle watched him in the mirror, his face and hands covered in her blood as he ripped the clinging dress the rest of the way from her body and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor at his feet. Elle thought, standing naked in front of him, that her dignity lay at his feet now as well.

"Mother fuck," Draco swore, his eyes raking over the tattered flesh of Elle's back.

Elle stifled a sob, seeking to cover as much of herself as she could. Draco put his hands on her shoulders and met her eyes, stilling her. He leaned forward, his shoulders slumped, and pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck, his eyes closed. Elle could feel his breathing as he struggled to regulate it; she stayed motionless as he regained his composure.

"Damnit, Elle," he whispered. She could feel his lips moving against her skin.

He pulled away and tugged the cloak he was still wearing off, letting it fall on top of Elle's ruined dress. He took his wand from his pocket and began tracing it along the marks crisscrossing her back, whispering all the time the strongest healing spell they taught at Hogwarts. Elle felt her muscles begin to knit back together, a soothing feeling taking hold of her. She figured it was from the potions and the spell Draco had just finished murmuring.

Draco ran his hands down Elle's back, looking over the long scars he hoped would fade over time. He let them rest on each of Elle's hips and looked to her face's reflection, watching him. Tears were pooled in her eyes and her cheeks were red from things other than the now nonexistent gashes on her skink.

"Can you stand on your own?" he asked in a low voice.

Elle shook her head, knowing if she were to try and walk she would collapse; her head was still too dizzy and her legs too wobbly. The fraction of her weight Draco was not in control of had been relegated to the counter in front of her, where her arms quavered, endeavoring to keep her upright.

"You need to shower. There's blood… everywhere," Draco said.

A shuddering breath rose from Elle before she managed to ask, in the smallest voice she'd ever employed, "Will you help me?"

Draco gazed at her for a long time before nodding once and removing his hands from their position. Elle wavered, shifting more of her weight forward to be supported by the counter, as he pulled his shirt and pants off. Just as Elle felt like her arms wouldn't hold her anymore Draco took her back into his arms and moved them to the shower.

Reaching around Elle once they were both in, he turned the water on. Elle spluttered and shivered at the cold water fell around them, heating slowly. She stood, staring at her feet as blood ran down her legs and into the drain, her hands on Draco's whose were still holding her hips as she leaned her weight back onto him. He eventually removed one of his hands to work the matted in ribbon out of her hair so the blood could be washed from it was well.

Draco stood behind her, neither saying a word. They didn't move to use soaps or shampoos; they just let the water cascade around them, taking the gore of the day with it. They stayed until the spray of the water began to run cold again and there was a knock at Draco's bedroom door.

Elle reached forward and shut the stream off and allowed Draco to pick her up and move her out of the shower. He sat her on the counter and helped her towel off before drying himself; afterwards Draco led her into their room and pulled another of his shirts on over her head.

After pulling on a pair of shorts he answered the knock at the door. Theo, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle stood on the other side. As soon as Draco had opened the door far enough Pansy pushed her way inside, heading straight for Elle, who was standing on unsteady legs and supporting herself with the back of the couch.

"I hope you learned a lesson, Potter," Pansy smirked, shoving Elle hard enough to send her toppling to the floor.

"Parkinson, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Draco growled.

Pansy began to answer, but Draco cut her off, uninterested in her answer.

"Theo, get her out of here," he demanded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure, mate," Theo replied. He grabbed Pansy and removed her rather roughly from Draco's room, letting the door slam on the way out.

Elle lay on the floor, silently cursing Pansy as she tried to get to her feet. She halted her movements as Draco spun to face her. Every muscle in his body was clenched; rage was billowing off of him as his eyes met hers. Without saying a word he pulled her from the floor and deposited her onto his bed, in the same swift motion he followed her until he was hovering over her where she laid.

"You could have been killed," Draco seethed. His face was so close to hers that their lips were touching. She could feel the fury cascade from him with each word. His lean body vibrated with the effort it was taking for him to restrain his anger; she could feel every move he made above her.

"I-I'm fine," Elle responded, her voice cracking. She wondered whether touching him would help calm him or just increase the acuteness of the potential loss he was feeling.

"You could have easily died, Elle. And for what? A house-elf that betrayed you?"

His anger was cooling, and Elle took the chance to reach out and touch him. She rested her palm on his side, just below his rib cage. She felt the shiver that ran up his spine at her touch and her breath caught in her throat.

"It was an accident. I just saw him and forgot where I was for a second. I didn't mean to make a scene," she managed to say in a whisper.

"You can't ever, ever forget where you are. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you," Draco said. His voice was still strained but his body, resting above hers close enough that there wasn't a space on Elle that wasn't in contact with him, was finally composed.

"I'm sorry," Elle murmured.

Draco contemplated her for several minutes before he lowered himself so that more of his weight rested on her, and captured her in a pained kiss. Elle could feel his stress as if it were her own, and inside her mind flashed images of Draco in front of her, torn to pieces and bleeding. A dry, cracked sounding sob escaped from Elle and she clung to Draco with all her strength.

He broke their kiss and moved to lay beside her, drawing her into his side. Elle melded into him, wanting to be as close as possible to feel his warmth against her. She splayed her hand over his chest, above his heart; the beating comforting her and centering her rampant emotions.

"What are we doing?" she spoke quietly. Something inside her needed to know what was going on; she felt like she had become lost within the tumultuous cacophony of feelings she had experienced since she had seen Draco all those months ago in Fred and George's shop.

Draco turned his head to scrutinize her face, attempting to untangle her feelings and gauge his response accordingly. Her face didn't display much beyond her own confusion and the hope the he'd guide her through it.

"What do you mean specifically?" he asked.

"Me and you. What are we?" Elle reworded her question in a bolder manner, drawing on the strength and confidence she was beginning to think she had lost.

"Us?" Draco responded, his lips slipped upwards as his eyes took on the lighter tone Elle could remember from her first couple of years at Hogwarts. "What do you want us to be?"

"Safe," Elle blurted the first thing that popped into her mind.

"Does that answer your question about what we are?" Draco sniggered.

"No," Elle admitted. "I want… to know what you want," she finished, shying away from answering.

"I want you," Draco said, his voice relaxed and certain. "You're it. The only thing I've ever wanted is you. I'll be whatever you want, always."

"I want you to be everything," Elle replied, her voice nowhere near as relaxed but not any less certain.

Draco smirked, crooked and stunning, and pulled Elle closer, kissing the crown of her head. She was still clinging to him, tighter now than ever, as they fell asleep.

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**Next chapter will be out soonlike. =) Love you all. **


	15. From Bad to Worse

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter, _nor do I apparently own a very good reputation for updating in a timely manner. =( For which I am profusely sorry. I have excuses, I swear, and they're really good. But it's whatever; the point is I'm very sorry. I update as soon as I can, I promise. **

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Days passed, blurred and routine. Voldemort had left after the scene in the dining hall and had yet to return, or according to Draco, even speak of returning. He constantly reminded Elle that she was not safe, and that under no circumstances was she to begin acting like she was.

For the most part Elle disregarded or ignored his constant preaching. She hadn't had to leave his room once since the incident with Kreature, the only thing she had to deal with was Draco's constant absences. He would leave, some times for days on end, to aide Voldemort in whatever scheme he was endeavoring to peruse. Most of the time he would return, able to relay bits and pieces of Voldemort's plans to Elle; he was able to tell her that he had sights set on the ministry, but no plan of announcing himself minister, and on Hogwarts. Though, whether they were going to be outright attacks or covert overthrows Draco wasn't informed. Other times he returned, his face ghostly and his eyes storming, unable to speak or look at Elle until he had worked through his thoughts on his own.

Elle sat, cross-legged on the floor, in front of the glass coffee table. Piled and strewn all around her were Draco's school books. In her lap rested a never opened copy of _Magical Me_. Gilderoy Lockhart was beaming up at her from its cover, dancing about and winking obnoxiously. Rolling her eyes, she took a quill from the pile on the table and attempted to draw fangs and a mustache onto the outrageous wizard.

"What are you doing?" Theo asked, looking up from the Charms book he was pouring over.

"Giving Lockhart at Hitler moustache," Elle quipped, attempting to coax the now cowering Lockhart back to the front of the picture.

"I have no idea who that is," Theo sighed, constantly aggravated by his confusion over Elle's Muggle references.

Elle quirked her head to the side and her nose crinkled as she explained, "He's the Muggle equivalent of Voldemort."

Theo flinched and narrowed his eyes, "Why do you insist on calling him by name?"

"I'm not calling him by name," she deadpanned.

"You are one strange girl," Theo mumbled, before turning the topic. "You're supposed to be studying and helping me. That's why Draco got all of his old books out for you."

"I'm not supposed to be studying. I'm supposed to be 'staying out of sight, out of mind.' And I am. Lockhart looks better this way anyways; he'll definitely win _Witch Weekly's _Most Fangtastic Smile Award!" Elle giggled, holding the book up as proof.

"There is something seriously wrong with you," Theo gaped at her. "You're locked up with people who really, and I mean realllly, wish you were dead, and you're doodling fangs onto a professor's book and making jokes."

"What would you rather me do?" Elle snapped, flinging _Magical Me_ aside.

"I don't know," Theo said exasperated. He returned to his book, ignoring Elle's muttering about boredom.

"When's that due?" Elle asked just to keep him talking to her.

"As soon as holidays are over," he replied, not looking up at her.

"When's that?" Elle continued, not caring that she was annoying the other wizard.

"Three days, and I still have a half foot left, so would you mind being quiet for once?" Theo retorted.

"What's it on?" she asked.

"The Contraception Charm," he grumbled. "Do you know anything about it? I'm struggling."

"I've never had a boyfriend in my life, why would I know it?" Elle rolled her eyes and began to flip through a Transfiguration book.

"What about Draco?" Theo questioned.

Elle's cheeks flushed, and she struggled for words.

"You've never been with anyone before Draco?" he continued, looking surprised.

"No. He's my first…" Elle trailed off, waving her hands about and shrugging her shoulders, unable to find the right words.

"I thought you were dating Creevey?" Theo stated.

"Merlin, no! He just had a crush. It was really, very awkward for me," Elle asserted.

"What about Finnigan, or those Weasley twins?" he pressed.

"Fred and George? No way! Seamus is just a friend," Elle laughed.

"Draco will be glad to know," Theo muttered.

Elle looked at him, her smile melting into confusion as she asked, "Why would it matter to him?"

Theo looked at her like she had just asked the stupidest question he'd ever heard. He shook his head, saying, "You have no idea, do you? You've been entirely oblivious."

"What are you talking about?" Elle demanded.

"He's been obsessed with you for years. It's why he's never picked on you, like he did with everyone else; why hardly any Slytherin bothers you. It was always obvious you were off limits for whatever reason. It took me until our fourth year to figure it out, and Parkinson has always been suspicious. Everyone else is too stupid or too blinded by the supposed rivalry between him and your brother to notice," Theo huffed.

"That's not possible," Elle contended.

"How is it not?" Theo asked. "It makes total sense."

"I hardly ever even spoke to him, other than to tell him to sod off," Elle insisted.

"Look, I don't know how, or why. But I know it's true. You are the only thing he ever coveted. He'd have done anything to get you. And he'll do anything to keep you. I doubt he even cares about this war," Theo told her.

"What do you mean he doesn't care about the war?" Elle asked, her voice full of bewilderment.

"He doesn't care one way or the other. He's never truly cared about blood purity, but he doesn't care enough about the other side of it either. Not enough to just go about sticking his neck out for it; not if there isn't something in it for him. He's still Slytherin you know," Theo chuckled at the befuddled look cemented to Elle's features.

"So what's in it for him?" Elle inquired.

"You," Theo stated, as if there was not a single doubt anyone could have about the whole thing.

"But what about before? Before he knew I was going to be here?" she pressed.

"He was going along with what he had to in order to keep alive, and wanted to be able to be there in the end, at whatever final battle there was, to make sure you made it out alive. Throughout the whole thing, his main—if not only—concern has been you," he explained, relieved Elle finally looked like she understood.

"Oh," Elle whispered.

She looked away from Theo, to the book she was clutching to her chest, as her mind swirled and sought to come to terms with what he had just told her.

"You're really dense sometime, for being the most powerful witch ever and all," Theo joked. "You'll probably want to look into this spell. Draco's never bothered to learn it either."

Elle stared up at him, her face frozen somewhere between shock and embarrassment, and the older boy continued to laugh at her. They were pulled from the conversation by sudden bangs and thuds echoing throughout the mansion, followed by the shouting of several voices.

"Looks like they're finally back," Theo said, referring to Draco, Bellatrix and several other Death Eaters who had been away on some mission for the past four days.

The door to the room flew open, and Draco strode though, stopping short at the sight of Elle and Theo. Elle jumped from her position on the floor at the sight of him, panic racing through her. He stood, covered in blood, his clothes ripped and charred, struggling to stay on his feet.

"Get out," Draco ground through his teeth, his eyes looked nearly black as he glared at Theo. "Now. Get out."

"What happened?" Theo asked, slowly gathering his stuff.

"NOW!" Draco shouted, wobbling, but still managing to sound threatening.

Draco stood watching as his best friend made his way from the room without another word, before making it to the bathroom. Elle followed him; wringing her hands, unsure of what to do. He tore his shit over his head, and began to scrub at his face and arms violently in the sink. His breaths came fast, in heaving gulps, as though he could not get enough air, and his body quaked brutally.

Not knowing how to best approach him Elle watched until he shut the water off and was leaning heavily against the counter. She padded over to him silently and placed a hand on his back, and the other on his bicep. She could feel him quivering beneath her fingertips. At her touch he finally turned his head to look at her.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him quietly.

"No," he responded gruffly.

"What happened?" Elle probed.

"The Order," he choked, unable to meet her eyes.

Elle stared at him blankly, her face pale as her heart began to hammer and her mind faltered, trying to grasp at what he'd said. Her hands dropped from him, and she stumbled backwards until she knocked into the doorframe.

"The Order of the Phoenix?" she clarified, her voice harsh.

Draco nodded once, jerkily, and turned his head away from her. He was refusing to make eye contact with her, or even with himself in the mirror.

"But… Then why were you covered in blood?" she asked, hoping he told her Bellatrix had been blown to bits and he'd been in the way of that aftermath.

"They're beginning to move. They want you back. They're getting restless," Draco whispered a response.

"Draco?" Elle demanded, her voice louder than before.

"The elf was with them. He's been closed off from getting in here."

"Why were you covered in blood?" she repeated, her voice taking on an almost feral tone.

"There was a fight," Draco finally told her, his eyes still anywhere but on her.

"Who's blood? Who's BLOOD was that?" Elle commanded.

Draco flinched at her tone. It was cold and hollow. Through all the times he had tormented her brother, or her friends, she had never sounded so full of loathing. He could practically feel the malice dripping off of her, pooling around her feet until it reached him and began to climb up his body, smothering him until his breathing was ragged once again and he could hardly think straight.

"The werewolf's," he managed in a low, fading whisper.

"Uncle… Remus'?" Elle gaped.

"I didn't have a choice. He came at me, I had to defend myself," Draco reasoned, finally turning his head in her direction. His eyes still lingered just above her head, avoiding her own.

"No," Elle mumbled. "No. No."

Draco shifted to make eye contact, thinking she was agreeing that there had been no other way. What he saw stole his breath. Draco watched the tears well in her eyes as she struggled to hold them in. Her face was scrunched, from the struggle or pain he wasn't wholly sure, and her jaw clenched as the tears slipped and her body vibrated from the strain she was exerting to control her emotions.

"Elle…" Draco began, unsure of what to say.

"No choice? There is always a choice. ALWAYS!" Elle shrieked.

The tall blond could do nothing but stare at her. Her tiny fists were clenched as her whole body trembled. Her chest rose and fell sporadically as she gulped for air. Draco took a hesitant step towards her, reaching out to grab her arm, but stopped short when she snapped her head up and locked her gaze with his. Her eyes were nearly black, the only color left was they usually invisible rim of gold at the outermost edge of her irises, sparkling like molten lava.

"You… How could you? After everything… After… I… YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" Elle screamed.

The air around them shifted, its pressure seeming to increase. Draco moved to reach out to her again, mouthing words Elle couldn't hear anymore. She shook her head, her hair tumbling around her, as she turned and backed away from him. Her mind rolled; her body heaved and the floor came rushing up to greet her. She fumbled, Draco's hands on her like coals from the pit of a fire, brushing him away violently to regain her feet.

"Elle?" his words did nothing more than stoke her rage.

Her hair whipped around, caught by the currents of air gusting around her; she was engulfed.

"What's going on?" Theo's voice came from the doorway of Draco's room. "Why are you shouting?"

"Finally lost your puny, little mind, Potter?" Pansy trilled from somewhere behind him.

Elle turned towards them and bolted. Her feet carried her across the room to the crowding Slytherins in seconds, and they were flung from her path just before she reached them. They scattered in different directions; Theo cast aside into a wall and Pansy into the banister of the stairwell, her head ricocheting off of it with a loud thud.

She hurried down the stairs not pausing to see if Draco was behind her. She concentrated on barreling past the Death Eaters still gathered in the entrance hall. Most of them gaped at her in confusion, some to staggering steps back from her as she descended the last of the stairs. Chancing a look back she started when she realized the stairwell had begun to crumble; Draco was left, stranded, at the top of if looking down at her, his eyes wide in astonishment.

Elle took a few more stumbling steps before picking up her pace. A few Death Eaters overcame the shock and began to move in on her. As soon as they got close enough to grab her they were propelled back, scattering around her like fallen ashes.

Lucius appeared before her, in between herself and her goal. His body was struggling to remain upright against the torrent of raging magic that was spreading around Elle, unleashed and spiraling with nothing directing it but her will.

"CALL HIM! HURRY!" she heard him shout.

Elle refused to let herself hesitate for even a moment, so when she noticed he would not be brushed to the side like the rest she hurled herself onto the floor an instant before their bodies would have crashed together to slip between his legs while he was still grappling to overcome her magic in order to move his limbs.

In front of her the enormous double doors burst into flame, only to be consumed instantaneously and turned to ash right as Elle soared through them, still being propelled across the ground. Soot covered her as she surged to her feet once again, this time outside the walls of the great Malfoy Manor.

Snow and ice covered the walkway, slowing Elle's progress each time she slipped and fell or would skid to halt in order to regain her bearing. On either side or her loomed giant, overgrown hedges forcing her to remain on the designated path.

As she ran a black mist formed to her left, keeping pace with her, materializing ominously into a form she would recognize anywhere. Before she was able to come to a stop and attempt to switch directions a hand with spindle-like fingers was warped around her neck. She was lifted from the ground and slammed into one of the banks of hedges, a wand at her temple and the scraggly branches of the foliage attacking her back and exposed thighs.

The second she flailed, and kicked her legs out she felt the strong pull and squeezing sensation that accompanied apparition. Her body was still in motion as she was thrown across the living room of the same manor she had just escaped. She crumpled onto the marble floor at the feet of Draco. Elle could sense the Dark Lord hovering just behind her.

She pulled herself unsteadily to her feet, her eyes resting in the center of Draco's chest. He didn't appear to be breathing. The room was silent, save for the crackling sounds she assumed were coming from dark magic attempting to overcome the unadulterated magic still spewing from the small girl who had her back turned on the most powerful dark wizard of all time.

"Are you done?" his voice slithered into her ear.

An explosion sounded as the glass windowpanes shattered. Elle lurched forward; tugging a statue of Salazar Slytherin off the table Draco stood in front of, and whipped it at Voldemort as she pivoted to face him. Throwing herself after the object, which the shocked reptilian wizard dissolved with a flick of his wand, she raised her fist and had just enough momentum to make contact with the Dark Lord's jaw before he was able to recover from his surprise.

Elle fell to her knees, the air around her finally calming. Her hair draped on either side of her face, hiding the falling tears and fear from the Death Eaters gathered around her once again.

"WHY YOU DIRRTY-BLODDED BITCH!" Bellatrix wailed, her shriek grating against Elle, causing her to quiver.

"I thought you said she wasn't dangerous, Draco?" the hard, icy voice of Voldemort questioned.

"I thought she wasn't. She doesn't have a wand, or anything," the younger boy stammered.

"What does this mean, my Lord? What will you do with her now?" Narcissa asked from somewhere to her son's right. Her voice was hesitant and almost soothing.

"If Draco can't keep her tamed, she will need to be locked up," Voldemort sneered.

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius mumbled, approaching Elle from behind. With a flick of his wand he bound her arms behind her back.

"Don't move her yet," their lord commanded. "I wish to speak with her further."

Elle gazed blankly at the floor in front of her, her expression unchanging as Voldemort bent to her current level.

"It appears you have been deceiving me," he hissed. "I should not have believed you were powerless for even a second. You were Dumbledore's favorite protégé; I should have known you were more than a fragile-looking child. Doubtless, you would be quite the sight to see if only you had a wand."

Elle made no effort to respond. All the remaining energy in her body fixated solely on remaining upright on her knees. She felt like she must be swaying back and forth, but couldn't be sure anymore. She noticed the dark wizard twitch his head to the side. She squinted at the movement, trying to bring his blurred form into focus. Elle could feel Draco's presence behind her, she grumbled incoherently over the fact that she still found that fact comforting.

"I believe it's time I tried to take another look into your mind," Voldemort stated, bring his wand up to face her.

"My Lord, have you not done that already?" Draco questioned.

If Elle had possessed a single bit more of adrenalin in her body she decided she would have used it to kick Draco in the shin. She clasped her eyes shut as she felt another person's consciousness enter her mind. Gritting her teeth, she willed herself to try and push it out, or build a wall around what needed to be kept secret. She started as she realized it wasn't Voldemort, and that she could feel them building the mental block she had been unable to form.

Almost directly after she sensed the mental shield solidify she felt Voldemort's attempt to bring it down begin. She threw everything she could into helping protect her mind. The strain of having so many warring forces inside her at once bogged her down, until she was hovering just over the edge of unconsciousness.

Feeling Voldemort withdraw from her mind, she allowed her body to fall to the floor. Exhaustion flowed into her, soaking her every pore. She felt like she was toppling through space; suddenly she was weightless, floating unsteadily.

The next thing her cloudy mind was able to register was the freezing stone floor she was dropped onto, jolting her travel to an unceremonious stop. A hand grabbed at her hair, pulling it roughly out of the way as the magical shackle clamped shut around her neck again.

She heard the echoing footsteps ascend the staircase, and the slamming of a door. Elle was left alone, in the cold, damp dungeon of Malfoy Manor once again. The rattling breathing of her demented companions was all she could hear now, and in the dark all she could make out was the billowing masses of their bodies as they stirred the air with their surging, drifting, overwhelming movements.

"Bloody Draco Malfoy," she mumbled, the weight around her neck stifling.

Elle slumped against the clammy stone wall and pulled her knees close to her chest. Her mind was still spiraling, so she tucked it into her knees and watched her own tears as they trickled down her thighs.

"Uncle Remus," she whimpered as thoughts of him erupted into her mind. They were twisted and dark, dangerously morbid. They left her sobbing and breathless until her body could sustain her no longer and she sank into a welcomed nothingness.

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**Additional**** note: I know this is shorter than what I normally do, but this was where I needed to end this chapter. It felt right. And I really wanted to get at least a bit out to you all as soon as I could. =) I hope you are all still enjoying my writing. Also, there is a Harry POV up. It's short as well, but it gives some good insight as to what he is up to. It's been a while, so please let me know it you're still out there and interested. =) **


	16. The Worst Laid Plans

**Disclaimer: I didn't think up the world of _Harry Potter_. Boo. =( But I am the extremely proud owner of a Beta Pottermore account. KnightMirror109, get at me ho. =) **

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Draco strode quickly from his bedroom, each step forceful and filled with purpose. He made his way into the kitchen of his childhood home, snatching a plate of food from a quivering house elf without pausing or slowing in the slightest.

Wrenching open the heavy wooden door that led to the dungeons of his manor the teen made his way downward into the frozen blackness that was currently holding his world. She had been there for days, no longer safe in his room, no longer constantly trailing a few paces behind him. The smile and laughter only he had been granted the past weeks had been whipped from her face in an instant and another burden had been placed on his shoulders, another mistake lay at his feet.

He kneeled in front of her, setting the plate within easy reach. He knew she would not touch it while he was present. She hardly moved whenever he was there, if she was conscious at all. She slipped easily into and out of a state that was never sleep and rarely awake, her body fighting tooth and nail just to keep her alive.

Her green eyes, now dull and glassy, slipped to where he kneeled before her. Draco bowed his head, unable to take the look in her eyes. She was haunted, he could tell, her very soul endangered from her prolonged stay with the dark creatures still swirling around her. She'd fallen, ungracefully; into a chasm of despair so deep Draco had no hope of reaching her—not while he was to blame for her suffering, not while she held him at such a revulsion-filled distance.

She was dying, he had no doubt, slowly her will to survive was extinguishing; the fight, the bravery she had been born into had been broken.

Pulling from his pocket Draco reread the letter Theo had managed to send him. It was written in broken words, the phrases making hardly any sense, the hastily written handwriting difficult to decipher.

"Prepare for catastrophe," Draco read aloud, Elle's eyes glued to him. Whether she understood, or could even hear what he was saying Draco had no idea, yet he forced himself to continue: for her sake. It was the very least he was able to do for her now. "Rash decisions are upon us. Hogwarts is in turmoil. They're preparing. Watch out, you may end up with far more than you bargained for. Parkinson is in an uproar. You are in danger. Signed, T. N."

There was no visible response from Elle, though Draco hadn't really expected there to be. She continued to stare, blankly, at his kneeling form. If she had understood a single word he'd said, she made no motion to discuss her thoughts.

Draco had been pouring over the letter for hours. Some parts of it were easy to understand; they were preparing, finally on the move. That was good. He was not sure what was going on at Hogwarts to have put it into turmoil, or why Pansy was acting up. Nor was he entirely sure why he would be in danger.

"Did you hear any of that?" he asked. "They're coming. You'll have to fight again. Can you do that?"

Draco thought for a second he saw a reaction cross Elle's face. Though her silence continued; they only sound coming from her the rasping of her breathing.

Draco stood, knowing he could not linger with her for long; Voldemort had not left the manor since Elle's breakout attempt. Before he turned to walk away he let his eyes linger over her for one extra moment, trapped by the haunting image of her.

Looking down at Elle, he felt as though he was finally losing the last piece of his heart that she had yet to possess. He had been fighting the moment for five long years, but it was upon him at last; he belonged wholly to this fragile looking girl.

The same girl that had ensnared his attention the first time he had laid eyes on her. He was used to her always challenging him, pushing and pulling him all at once; he missed seeing her waltz around as though nothing could hold her down, as though on one could even touch her. He wanted to be able to watch her smile and to hear her laugh again.

Seeing her tapped and tortured to the point that her personality and body were no longer recognizable was unbearable. He gazed at her, sitting in the corner of his dungeon, her arms wrapped around herself in what appeared to be her last ditch effort to hold herself together, he realized he would do whatever it took to save her, to return her in one piece to the only person who was currently able to offer her protection—Harry Potter. She looked up at him then, as if sensing his decision, her green eyes piercing him to the core. Her face was smeared with tears, and dirt, and blood and he couldn't help but think she looked like some sort of fallen, disgraced deity.

She was beautiful—even in decay.

"Draco?" her voice was so soft he wasn't sure she had actually said anything.

Turning, without giving a response, Draco made his way back to the main section of the house. In the kitchen the elves scurried about, cleaning the mess a mob of Death Eaters and their master had left of their own diner. He ignored the food that was offered to him, and continued to his father's—now the Dark Lord's—study, to make his report on how Elle was doing, and if he had been able to gain anything important from her.

The room was dark, with nothing but the fading daylight shining throughout the chamber. In the very center was a large desk, behind which, situated in a high-backed chair, sat the wizard Draco sought.

"Anything of interest to report, Draco?" he asked, his eyes not deigning to move from the scattering of papers and books laid out before him.

"There has been no change," Draco admitted, truthfully. "She still remains barely conscious. I do not believe she is lucid. She made no signs to even indicate she was aware of my presence."

"What do you think should be done with her, Draco?" the Dark Lord asked, finally looking at his subordinate fully.

"What more can be done with her? She is obviously more capable than originally thought," he answered, making sure to maintain a steady confidence in his appearance and voice.

"I was thinking," the other wizard began. "She may not be as useful as I had hoped. Do you not think the proper time lapse has passed for her brother to attempt an open mission for her rescue?"

"You doubt that he will come for her?" Draco asked, not quite managing to leave the shock from his voice.

"I think she may have worn her welcome here, yes," the dark wizard mused, returning to his previous endeavors.

Draco knew that this was his cue for dismissal from the Dark Lord, but he could not convince his feet to lead him from the room.

"You are planning on killing her?" he blurted before he could contain the panic that had bubbled to the surface of his emotions so quickly and suddenly.

"I am considering it," Voldemort acknowledged. "Do you have any protests?"

The glinting red eyes of the dark wizard appraised Draco for any reaction; his outburst having raised a momentary suspicion as to Draco's feelings on the matter.

Draco schooled his face as best he could before responding, "None at all."

"Then you may leave, Draco," the Dark Lord said, Draco's dismissal heavy on his tongue.

Draco spun on his heel and made to return to his room for the night, closing his bedroom door behind him as quietly as possible. He stood, staring unseeingly out his window, his mind reeling. Never had he expected for Elle to receive a death sentence while Harry was still out there, not while there was a chance of him running head long into the open arms of the Dark Lord's plan. His thoughts careened wildly, grasping at ideas on how he could try to get Elle out of the manor as soon as possible.

Nothing within his doing came to him, still hours later as he found himself in the same spot. For the very first time in his life he spoke aloud a plea for Harry Potter.

"Save her, please," his voice wavered. "C'mon, Scarhead, where the fuck are you when you're really needed. Of all the times to fail, we can't both fail her now."

He pulled his fist back from the windowpane he had shattered, a string of curses trailing just beneath his breath. Draco tore his sweater of her his, allowing it to fall in a heap to the floor before falling back onto his bed. His wand gripped laxly in his hand as the sky outside began to twinkle with the light of the stars. He gazed incoherently at the ceiling above him as minutes seeped slowly into hours, knowing with each second that passed Elle was that much closer to dying—knowing that he was that much closer to destroying the only thing he had ever wanted to protect.

Hours later, well past the mark of midnight, Draco was shocked from the troubled sleep he had slid into. A slight _ping_ sounded at the foot of his bed and suddenly bodies toppled onto his dazed form.

An intense and oddly quite scuffle began to break out above him between whoever had landed on him. Bodies shifted as limbs flailed and a scream was muffled. Draco, who was still fighting off the remaining dregs of his sleep, was shoved roughly from his bed and onto the floor with a loud thud.

"Oh dear," he heard a female voice whisper. "I can't see a thing."

"What happened to your wand?" came a gruff voice he recognized. The person seemed to be thrashing back and forth.

"_Lumos_," Draco uttered, flipping his wand in the direction of his bed.

The sight that greeted him was at once the most bizarre and welcome thing that could have tumbled into his bed in the middle of the night at that particular time. Loony Lovegood was standing at the foot of his bed, staring upwards, as if waiting for the wand she had lost to fall into her outstretched hands. Atop her head sat a green ball of fluff with two large, bright eyes that Draco remembered as Elle's eccentric pet. In the center of his bed, in a confused pile were the three that had fallen directly onto Draco; Harry, Ron and Hermione were still trying to quietly disentangle themselves without hurting each other. On the far side was Neville, the voice he had recognized, and Ginny; both wrestling with an irate Pansy Parkinson.

Draco gaped as the Gryffindor trio finally managed to separate themselves and Harry shoved a wand into Loony's hands.

"What are you two doing?" Ron demanded, looking at his sister and Neville.

They both returned the look, confusion amassed onto their faces wondering why he was asking such a question.

"_Stupefy _her," Hermione said, her voice already full of the exasperation Draco was sure was present every time the group embarked on one of their wild goose chases.

"Oh right," Ginny muttered, pulling her wand from her sleeve and pointing it at the thrashing Slytherin. "_Stupefy_!"

Pansy fell to the floor as Neville released her now prone body; he made no attempts to make the landing any less harsh for the girl. Draco stood where he was as five wands turned on him; he wasn't surprised that Loony was the only one who seemed entirely uncaring of the situation. He watched as she made her way to the door of his room, only stopping once she noticed no one was following her.

"What are you doing?" she questioned.

"We can't just turn our backs on him," Harry said. "And we need him to lead us to Elle."

"I thought we trusted him?" the crazy girl mused, walking back over to the group.

She came to a halt beside Draco, gazing up at him awkwardly.

"Stop that," Draco hissed, moving slightly away from her.

Her unperturbed gazed drifted over his shirtless upper body, and finally came to rest on the Dark Mark. It stood out plainly against his pale skin; it was dark as it had ever been.

"Are you really a Death Eater?" she asked him bluntly.

"Technically," Draco responded, his eyes locked on the angry green ones opposite him.

"What is that supposed to mean, Ferret?" the scarred teen demanded.

"It means, Scarhead, that as far as the Dark Lord is concerned, yes, I am a Death Eater. Second in command, as a matter of fact," Draco stated, his voice taking on the smug tone he couldn't seem to help when confronted by Harry.

"'As far as the Dark Lord is concerned?'" Hermione repeated. "Where do your loyalties lay?"

Through Draco's mind flashed an image of the girl currently two levels below them. He smirked, "Not where one might normally think."

"You'll take us to Elle?" Harry asked.

"And not let your friends know we're here?" Ron added, not as accepting of Draco's claim.

"I want her out of here just as badly as you do, Weasley," Draco stated.

Ron was about to argue, when Harry's hand rising in front of him halted the conversation.

"We don't have time for this right now. We'll figure out everyone's loyalties later. Right now, getting Elle out of her as soon as possible comes first," Harry stated, his voice left no room for argument. It was a tone all his friends had come to expect when Harry was set to do something; they knew following his direction would be best.

"Couldn't agree more," Draco sneered, rocking back onto his heels.

Harry stared at him for a moment, his face showing a wide range of emotions; the obvious mistrust, and some of his old loathing, but shockingly a burgeoning respect.

"Lead the way," Harry requested quietly, his voice strained.

"Let's go over some ground rules first, shall we?" Draco began.

"Malfoy, we don't have time for this!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, we do, Potter," Draco spoke over him, his voice commanding. "First off, the Dark Lord is here. I take it you paid no attention to Nott's warnings? But that's a moot point now; the Dark Lord spoke to me today of killing her, so there really isn't much time to waste. So be quiet, do as I say, and don't question me."

Many in the group looked like would rather eat their own wands than agree to what he'd just asked. Harry, however, gave one stiff nod. The rest hesitantly followed his lead.

"She is in the dungeon; she has been there for seven days now. It is filled with Dementors, so you will all need to cast a Patronus," Draco informed before beginning to lead the group from the room.

"Why is she there?" Loony asked, her voice much less absentminded than usual.

"Seven days ago, she attempted to break out," Draco snapped, not caring to go into any detail.

Draco led them into the hall and they began down the grand staircase, which had been magically repaired after Elle's destruction of it. The group moved quietly, huddled much closer together than Draco thought was strictly necessary; having Harry so close to his back was an unnerving experience for the teen—whether they were on the same team now, or not.

"Stop stepping on the back of my heel, Ron," Hermione whispered.

Draco couldn't help the way his eyes rolled as he sensed Ron trying to put some distance between himself and the agitated witch, which resulted in Neville running into Ron's back. He had always known that even when their gang went on the simplest missions they ended up wreaking havoc without fail. How they actually managed to always come out on top was something Draco found entirely mindboggling.

Over his right shoulder Draco could see Harry's unruffled face; the slight jostling the mishap had caused throughout the whole group seemingly so normal for the teen that he hadn't really noticed it. Draco shook his head as they continued through the living room and dining area and into the kitchen. He led them to the far corner before coming to a stop in front of the door that would take them into the dungeon where Elle was being kept.

"You'll need to cast the spell now," Draco spoke quietly.

After their muffled shouts of the incantation Draco drew the bulky door open and led them downwards. The gloomy space was exactly as he had left it; though with the presence of the Patronuses it was much warmer than before. Upon reaching the base of the stairs Elle's huddling form came into their sight.

Draco found himself staggering to the side as Harry shoved him aside in order to reach his younger sibling. He was by her side quicker than Draco thought was possible, whispering to her so that no one else could hear from the distance they were still at.

The remainder of the assembly followed Draco cautiously deeper into the cell. Their eyes fixated on their friend, though they seemed unwilling to break away from him and each other. He could hear the discreet sniffling that seemed to be coming from a few of the female members behind him, and was surprised when Luna's hand suddenly clutched onto his left elbow. He turned to see her face a wraithlike white, her eyes wide and frightened as she took in the hunched body of her best friend.

"Bloody hell," Ron gulped. "Why do you have a place like this in your house, Malfoy?"

As they stopped and gathered around Harry the boy looked up, his face filled with an indescribable pain that Draco understood all too exactly. His eyes demanded Draco answer the question.

"This house had belonged to dark wizards since its creation, the Dark Lord resides here," Draco stated. "Did you expect us to be running a heaven for unicorns and fairies?"

Elle's head was leaned back against the wall behind her, and her eyes were trained on the ceiling above her. She seemed to be in the same state she was in when he has last left her, with the exception of her being focused on something.

"She's not responding to me," Harry rumbled, looking up at Draco.

Making no response Draco kneeled down and situated Elle so that the chain holding her in place was visible. Keeping hold of Elle's hair he motioned at Hermione to release the bond. She gaped at him before muttering the strongest releasing spell she knew. The oversized shackle rattled to the floor, a loud clang echoing within the building.

"Why isn't she responding," Harry persisted, his voice growing louder as his panic increased.

"She's been down here for seven days," Draco snapped, glowering at Harry from the opposite side of Elle.

"What does that matter? Shouldn't she be feeling at least a little better with the effects of the Dementors gone?" Harry insisted.

"I don't know, Potter!" Draco returned, his voice rising in response to Harry's inquiry.

The grumbling argument from the teen boys was halted abruptly as the green Puff dropped from its perch on Luna's head and landed on Elle's knee. Her head shifted, leading her eyes to the small animal that matched them so well. The appearance of the Puff on her seemed to jolt her somewhat. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him begin to jump up and down.

"Elle?" Harry questioned, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Her concentration didn't stray from Oddball.

"Draco?" she rasped, her voice sounding foreign and unused.

The blond immediately took hold of her chin with his hand and turned her head so that she was looking at him. It was the first time in the days since she had run from him that she looked at him with anything other than disgust. She was confused, her mind still trying to regain its normal functions after having been muddled for so long; she was looking to him to help her understand what was going on. Draco could see it clearly in her eyes; she thought she had gone insane. He was the only one she didn't think she was imagining.

"It's okay," Draco whispered to her. "Harry's here. It's over. You're safe."

The gathered teens stared at Draco incredulously. Shock etched onto every face as the Slytherin spoke gently to Elle, having understood so much from her from hearing only his name.

"This is real?" she slurred.

Draco nodded his head as Harry tried to speak to her again, "I'm here, Ellie. We're all here. I'm so sorry it took us so long. So sorry."

There were sounds all around her as all of her friends, Draco included, voiced their agreement and their own apologies.

"In the end it was rather simple," Luna commented, crouching down next to Draco.

"How?" Elle asked, her eyes shifting to each of them individually. She was still having a difficult time keeping up with what they were saying, and having it make sense within her addled mind.

"Nott kept following us around the castle, rambling about grey snow and Malfoy. None of it made sense. We didn't really trust him, you know?" Harry began explaining. "We understood it was supposed to be helpful. Hermione figured out right away he was trying to tell us you were somewhere there was a large enough concentration of magic to effect the surroundings. But he kept going on about how we'd have to search for it. In the end it wasn't very helpful; it could have been anywhere. The only thing that was helpful was his muttering about Malfoy; it gave us pretty much a positive location of where you were."

"I punched him on accident," Neville admitted.

"You punched Theo?" Draco questioned angrily.

"On accident," Neville asserted, shuffling away from the other boy slightly.

"He was being way too obvious," Hermione interjected, coming to Neville's defense. "It was creating a scene everywhere we went."

"It's why Parkinson went batty," Ron groaned. "Storming about everywhere, trailing Nott, shouting and screaming, making a bloody mess of our plans. All of Slytherin was watching us by the time we had a plan."

"They didn't want us to get here," Ginny grumbled.

"So explain how Parkinson got here," Draco demanded.

"Parkinson is here?" Elle huffed, confused.

"Like they said. She went absolutely mental. Followed us everywhere. We thought she had quit, but just as we took off with Oddball she jumped onto Luna. We couldn't get rid of her because we were already transporting," Harry said, finishing the explanation.

Draco shook his head before saying, "Whatever, let's just get you all out of here."

"Is there any chocolate in that kitchen we went through?" Hermione asked, as she handed a befuddled and lost-looking Elle her wand. "Elle needs some as soon as possible."

"I'm not sure. They don't really have need for it. The Dementors don't affect them much," Draco admitted truthfully.

"Well, can we have a quick look just in case?" Ginny requested.

Shrugging his shoulders to show it didn't matter to him he began to gather Elle into his arms to carry her. His movements were stopped as both Potter siblings made protesting noises. Elle ducked away from him clumsily, falling back into Harry who had been trying to get to his sister at the same time as Draco.

"Wait, wait, wait. No," Elle snapped lowly, her eyes looking about in more confusion. They seemed clearer than they had been a few moments ago.

Her sharp gaze came to a rest on Draco, who was hovering anxiously beside her.

"Why is he here?" Elle cracked, pointing at Draco. "You guys are trusting him?"

"Um, yeah… I guess I thought we were supposed to," Harry muttered, confused over Elle's sudden mood swing.

"Why?" she asked, her voice harsh.

"Because he's helping us?" Harry responded, no longer sure of himself.

"He… But he… He killed Uncle Remus!" Elle cried.

Draco gaped at her and then at Harry behind her.

"I did no such thing," Draco defended. "We had a small misunderstanding when you all went after Snape and we got mixed up in it."

"Um, yeah. Elle, we saw Remus not too long ago. He saw us off to Hogwarts," Ron supplied.

"He got a bit banged up in the fight, but he said he knew Malfoy wasn't fighting him seriously. He was really confused over it, come to think of it," Harry said.

"You thought I actually killed him?" Draco wondered.

"Yeah," Elle admitted almost inaudibly.

"You're always rushing headlong into everything, jumping to conclusions without listening," Draco sighed in exasperation.

"I am not!" Elle reputed.

"Yes you are. All of you do. It's exhausting," Draco ranted.

Hermione shook her head in agreement.

"Traitor," Ron grumbled at her.

Harry collected Elle and stood to follow Draco and the others back the way they had come. The journey back to the kitchen was much slower than before, with everyone walking slower so that Harry wouldn't be jostling Elle in order to keep up with them.

As Harry and Elle emerged through the door Hermione, Ginny, and Luna were already ransacking the Malfoy kitchen. They were paying very little mind to putting things back after they had rifled through them, or shutting doors behind them. Draco stood a few feet behind them, looking like he wanted to say something about the mess they were leaving in their wake. Elle couldn't suppress the amused noise that bubbled from her at the look on his face. He truly had no idea what he was getting himself into with being involved with her and her friends.

Harry lowered her to her feet gently as Luna approached them with the chocolate clutched in her hand. Elle took it without question, her mind still foggy, and leaned into Draco who had wondered over to her not knowing what else to do.

"Are you wearing a Slytherin Quidditch uniform?" Ron asked, staring at her aghast.

Elle glanced down at herself, taking the last bite of the chocolate bar and chewing it thoroughly before responding, "The top half of one."

"What? Why don't you have pants on?" Harry barked.

"They wouldn't let me go home for a change of clothes," Elle snipped sarcastically, feeling much better; though not quite well enough to deal with Harry's over protective brother act. "This covers everything. Though it's a bit dirty."

The aimless discussion of Elle's wardrobe choices was brought to a screeching halt as Pansy dashed into the room out of breath and began wailing. Elle stumbled as Draco moved quickly to quite his housemate.

What ensued between the Slytherins and Neville, who had moved with the same intentions as Draco, was an extremely awkward wrestling match. Both males were trying to quiet her without using brute force, and Pansy was growing louder with every passing second.

"TRAITOR!" she wailed repeatedly. "THE DARK LORD WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS! ALL OF YOU! DRACO YOU TRAITOR! WHY?"

Suddenly the female Slytherin was being overwhelmed by all the teens, each seeking to silence her, some using magic and others resorting to physical violence. The confusion worsened when Elle, who hadn't entered the fray, was grabbed around the ankle by the opposing girl and pulled to the floor. Draco and Harry both lunged to catch her before her already weakened boy was slammed into the hard marble flooring.

Elle, who had been standing helplessly with her wand held tight in her hand, panicked, releasing a shriek nearly as loud as Pansy's. Her wand misfired, blowing several chairs up and causing a chandelier to crash to the floor inches from where she'd fallen.

Their situation turned from not-so-bad to dire in a matter of seconds. The surging, tangled group on the floor stilled simultaneously as the room chilled and they began hearing the whooshing sounds created by cloaked figures appearing in the room.

Draco, who had been the one to get to Elle, pulled her quickly behind him and stepped so that he stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry, leaving the girl hidden almost completely behind them. He was amazed at the way the group's formation changed so quickly amid the chaos; he could feel that Luna and Ginny moved to cover either side of Elle, could see Hermione standing to Harry's other side in his peripheral vision, and noted Neville and Ron's defensive stances solidify in front of he and Harry.

They may have been rash and reckless, but they moved fluidly as a whole. It was intuitive for all of them, instinctual because they had been together so long. What they lacked in strategizing was compensated for by the experiences they all shared, by their loyalty, and trust. He could feel Elle still behind him, her hand came to rest between his bare shoulder blades, ready to direct him should he get lost if their movements surprised him. She was letting him know that they would all act as one, and that he would be a part of that. Draco was unsure whether he found the action calming or intimidating, but he stood with his wand raised; as ready for the moment of his desertion as he ever would be. For an instant he considered cursing at them all for barreling in, caution thrown to the wind and all sense seemingly discarded, and ruining the years of careful planning, manipulation, and cunning Draco had put into getting himself and Elle through this war.

"Well, well, well," Voldemort mused, coming to the front of his gathered followers to address the rescue party. "I am most glad to see all of you here tonight. I had nearly decided that my plan wasn't going to turn out the way I had wished. I was going to kill her tomorrow, so you're just in the nick of time."

His self-righteous lecture trailed off as his scarlet eyes landed on Draco, standing behind Neville and protectively shielding Elle with Harry's aide.

"Draco?" he questioned, bewildered.

"Yes, my Lord?" the blond sneered, feeling Elle's nails dig into the skin on his back, probably not wanting him to bait the evil wizard.

"What are you doing?" Draco's father snapped from the dark magician's left.

"I should think that that was entirely obvious," Draco commented drily.

"You worthless, insolent, fool!" Lucius yelled, directing his wand at his son before making a slashing motion across his body that threw Draco from the group and closer to him.

Elle made to run after him but, Harry's arm gripped around her waist and pulled her firmly back into his body.

Draco climbed to his feet and stood solidly facing his father. His face was set to an indifferent mask, the visible Dark Mark on his arm, though was swirling angrily, reacting to its creator's building rage.

"How do you all plan to leave here, Draco? I think I forgot to mention to you that I placed a new spell over your home once we began to expect dear Harry's arrival. Neither you nor your friends will be able to exit, not now that I know you're all here and have locked the place down. It is shut off from the interference of all magical beings," Voldemort jeered, though his eyes were sealed on the Potter siblings in front of him.

"There's a way, there's always a way," Hermione mumbled, her mind switching focus to find a way out. "There must be something he couldn't think of. Anything."

Elle, nor any of their comrades, said a word in response. They were all scouring their minds to solve the new problem that presented itself. Draco was too far away to hear what Hermione had said, his attention too focused on his father before him.

"So, Draco, how long have you been deceiving me? Has this girl been such an influence in so short an amount of time?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Always," Draco retorted. It came out roughly, as he defended against his father who was now throwing curse after curse at him.

"Destroy all of them, leave me Harry," Voldemort commanded outraged.

Elle lost sight of Draco as Harry shoved her out of the way of a hex that had come flying at them. She found herself behind Luna, who was dueling a large, stupid-looking man. Pushing her way through the crowed, ducking and crawling between swelling rushes of fighting wizards, she fought to get to him.

"DRACO!" she screamed as she finally found him, only to be derailed by a snarling Bellatrix.

The psychotic woman grabbed Elle around her neck and forced her head towards Draco. He was fighting well; his skill at wizardry far superior to his father's, until Bellatrix began to taunt them.

"Would you like to watch him die, pretty?" Bellatrix purred. "Or would you like to be the first to go? He could mourn over your dead body for a moment before we kill him too. DRACO, DARLING! HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT WATCHING YOUR LITTLE GIRLFRIEND DIE TONIGHT?"

Draco's concentration broke and his head snapped to his aunt, horror clouding his judgment as he turned to retrieve Elle from her captor.

"NO!" Elle screamed, as their friends all surged around her.

They yanked Elle from Bellatrix's strangle hold, just as Lucius took advantage of his son's distraction. He bellowed a spell Elle didn't understand, drawing warped and twisted letters into the air.

Rushing forward, shadowed by all of her friends who had managed to gather together, Elle caught Draco around the chest just before his knees slammed into the ground. Not being able to support his weight Elle collapsed with him, her arms encircling him, her hands flat on his back. Draco coughed, his whole body quaking as he tried to regain the breath the curse had knocked out of him.

Pulling a sticking had to her face to see what substance had hit him Elle had to fight down the urge to vomit at the sight of his blood covering her hands.

"Draco? Draco?" she whispered hurriedly, shaking him in her dread.

"I'm fine. Calm down. It just knocked the wind out of me," Draco said, hauling Elle to her feet and joining the circle of squabbling teens.

"We need to get out of here quick," Draco asserted.

They responded by giving him looks that said they obviously knew that, as they continued to parry attacks being thrown at them and sending forward their own.

"Use the ball of fluff," Draco suggested.

"Oddball?" Elle asked. "Didn't you hear him say no magical being could get through his barrier?"

"No magical being he knows of," Draco stated, firing a curse over the heads of the group at someone who had been sneaking up behind Harry. "Have him bring something useful that can get us out of here."

"What? I don't know what to ask for?" Elle asked, aiming a stunning spell at Lucius and Bellatrix.

"Something fast that he won't be expecting. Catch him off guard, we need an advantage of some sort," Draco advised.

"Oddball, in the Forbidden Forest! Bring it!" Elle shouted, hoping the Puff understood her scrambled directions.

"You did not just ask him to bring the centaurs! Tell me you didn't ask him to bring the centaurs!" Ron lamented, struggling to fire at Crabbe's father.

"Ronald! Do you not ever listen?" Hermione began to lecture.

She was cut off by the _ping _that signaled Oddball had returned, and the revving of an old engine. Crashing onto the marble flooring into the middle of the skirmish, no more than an inch away from Draco, was Mr. Weasley's flying car. On the steering wheel sat a bright green ball of fur, purring away and looking quite pleased with itself.

"You have a horrid definition of fast!" Harry yelled, clambering into the car after Ron, who had shouting happily, "Better than centaurs!"

Draco was shocked into standing still, much like the Death Eaters and Voldemort who had narrowly escaped being crushed by the junky blue car.

"C'mon, get in!" Elle ordered, pulling Draco into the front seat after her to join Harry and Ron. Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville all scrambled into the back. Oddball jumped off the steering wheel as Ron took ahold of it and onto Elle's shoulder, making a whirring noise at being proud to have helped his owner.

"How exactly is this going to help us?" Draco demanded, helping Hermione throw up a strong defensive shield.

"GUN IT!" Harry shouted, drowning out Elle's response.

Ron did just that. He aimed the car straight for Voldemort, probably hoping to get to run him over. The shocked Dark Lord only just managed to apparate out of their way. They skidded though the entryway to the living room and toward the large window opposite them, Elle waving and flicking her wand to send furniture and the odd Death Eater soaring out of their way.

They burst through, glass shattering all around them and pelting onto the windshield and widows like a vicious rainstorm. Draco held onto Elle as they peeled and slid around on the frozen grass, out of control for a moment before a uniquely clam Ron and Harry began to discuss the pros and cons of flying and whether or not they thought the invisibility booster was still faulty.

"I think we should fly," Elle commented sharply, turned around to watch the Death Eaters and Dark Lord chase after them.

"I agree," Draco groused, hearing many in the car say the same.

"Suit yourselves," Harry muttered, pulling a lever on the dash of the car.

It gave a wild jerk before leaping into the air. It wavered for a moment before steadying and taking off at an increased speed. Looking back around, Elle could see their pursuers fading quickly, not able to keep pace with them.

The had been flying for roughly fifteen minutes without seeing hide nor tail of a Death Eater, when conversation began to flow through the group. Most were asking Elle if she was injured, or what had happened. She, for her part, was just reassuring them she was not hurt.

"I have a problem with this," Draco addressed the car as a whole.

"What could possibly have your knickers in a bunch, Malfoy?" Ron barked.

"Well, seeing as it is my manor we just left I thought you may want me to navigate. We are going back to Hogwarts, are we not?" Draco inquired.

"Yes," Harry replied, looking at him with suspicion.

"That's what I thought. It might serve you all well, then, to know that we are currently headed in exactly the opposite direction," Draco told them as if it should have been obvious.

"Why didn't you say something before?" Elle asked, peering up at him.

"I was a bit overwhelmed," Draco grumbled. "I've never been in an airplane before."

Instead of freaking out about their rout, like Draco thought they would, the whole group burst into laughter. Elle's eyes were watering as she placed a hand on his back to support herself. Noticing the wince of pain it created, she removed her hand and calmed herself.

"This is not an airplane," she giggled. "This is a car. Normally they don't fly. Mr. Weasley kind of created this using magic. It's entirely illegal. It's the car Harry and Ron flew to Hogwarts their second year, and then lost in the forest. But it helps us out when we need it, though the forest did turn it a bit wild. I don't think it would like others much."

Draco gazed out the window, determined to ignore the laughter at his expense, as Ron about faced the car and Harry jabbed at some button, until a light came on above it.

"Invisibility is a go," Harry stated happily.

He was holding Elle's right hand in his, squeezing it every so often to reassure himself she was there and that though scarred physically and mentally, she seemed to be doing everything she could to continue pushing through.

Pulling her hand gently from Harry's grasp she placed it on Draco's bicep, shifting so that her body was facing his.

"Let me look at your wound," Elle murmured

"I'm fine," Draco insisted, trying to refuse letting the girl see what was on his back.

"You were pouring blood," Elle stated. "Hermione is really good at healing."

"It'll need a potion, like yours did," Draco told her, referring to the wound on her neck, ankles, and back. "I know the spell."

She ignored him, forcing him forward, as Hermione leaned up to see if she could help. Elle had to bite her lip to keep the gag from escaping as she looked at the mangled flesh on Draco's back. She could see the outline of words, though she couldn't read them through the blood and grime that was coating them.

"He's right, Ellie," Hermione agreed. "It'll need potions. And, I'm sorry, Draco, but I think it will scar."

"Of course it will. I know the spell. It's only meant to leave a scar to embarrass or haunt whoever gets hit with it," Draco sighed. "What does it say?"

"You don't know?" Elle questioned.

"No. The spell isn't specific to any one saying. The caster can choose to write whatever he wishes," Draco muttered.

"I'll have to clean it," Hermione said. "_Scourgify!_"

Elle observed while the dirt and blood was siphoned off Draco's wound, her eyes searching to identify the phrase his father had marred him with. As the last of the blood came away and Elle read the two gnarled words carved across his back tears feel quickly and silently from her eyes as she struggled to maintain her composure. She met Hermione's eyes over the seat that divided them; the other girl was holding tears back as well. Turning around to face the front of the car again Elle took Draco's hand in her left, and Harry reclaimed her right to provide his crying sister any support he could.

"It says 'Blood Traitor'," she said softly.

Draco looked down at the girl beside him and squeezed her hand, a very small smile quirking the corners of his lips up. Elle's tears continued to pour as Draco pulled her up into his lap to wrap his arms around her.

"It's okay," he whispered to her softly.

She shook her head, her chest aching.

"I'm a blood traitor in their eyes," he continued. "But what am I to you? A blood traitor?"

She shook her head violently, meting his eyes, her gaze heated and pure.

"Then I don't care what it says," Draco concluded, he understood from her look what she couldn't voice at the time.

"I managed to swipe this to bring with me," Draco said, hoping to cheer her up.

He rifled through his pocket, and pulled out her glittering charm bracelet. A smile lit up her face, honest and heartfelt, as he took her wrist and clasped it back into place. Twirling it around she stopped, surprised by the addition of a new charm. A silver dragon glinted up at her, his emerald eyes winking.

Harry watched his sister admire her bracelet. He exchanged glances with his longtime friends; each of their faces displayed the same thing—they weren't going to protest Draco Malfoy joining them. He may have a couple adults to sway, and a lifelong of antagonizing, bickering, and some inevitable physical bouts to go through with Harry and Ron, but they knew he probably wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

**Hey! Look who didn't take forever and a year to update; and it's nice and long too. =) I hope you guys enjoy this, and leave me a review. =) I love hearing from all of you! I try to respond to everyone (obviously I can't if you don't have an account); you might have noticed I tend to respond right after a chapter is posted and then right before I post a new one. I'm not sure why I do this... But no one is unappreciated here in the SWAH world. I think there was something else I wanted to say... Oh, yeah... The Harry POV is up (posted as a separate stroy) so you should led me know if you liked that as well. =) In all seriousness who else got into Pottermore? And isn't it just bitchin' that I got a username with my middle name it it? I thought it was, since you have barely any control over your username. =) Whatevs, I'm sorry this is so long, but that is just who I am at 3:39 in the morning. =D **


	17. Intermission

**It's _alive!_**

* * *

"We're really just going to straight back past them?" Draco gawked, peering around at Harry.

The other boy was looking contentedly out the window, watching as Malfoy Manor appeared in front of them again. Elle looked down at him, shrugging. Draco grasped his forehead in his hand, rubbing it roughly in frustration.

"Are you growling?" Elle asked, leaning away from him to see him more clearly.

"Do you realize we're headed straight back to enemy territory?" Draco asked, peering around at the rest of the teens.

Ron was ignoring him, concentrating on steering the car. Harry was gazing at him as if he'd suddenly said he wanted to stop and take them dancing. Luna hummed from behind Harry, bouncing slightly. Ginny and Neville met his gaze, their faces blank as though he really shouldn't have asked the question to begin with. Hermione, the only one he had been sure would see his point merely shrugged noncommittally and turned to look out the window.

"No," Elle said, making a curving motion with her hand. "We're going around, and above."

"That hardly makes a difference," Draco sighed.

"They can't see us," Elle informed him. "We're invisible."

"Yes, I understand the concept of invisible," Draco groaned. "But what were they talking about earlier, about how it had been broken then last time they had been in the car?"

"When they were running from Aragog?" Elle tried to clarify.

"Excuse me?" Draco gawked at her.

No one in the car seemed to be paying him their full attention, and it appeared as though Elle was still struggling inside her own mind. At times her eyes would lose their focus, and her face would crumple, only to snap back to normal seconds later.

"Aragog is a gigantic spider," Harry explained. "He and his family lived in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid used to control them; until Aragog died."

"He was evil to begin with, though," Ron grumbled, only barely succeeding in suppressing a shudder.

"What does this have to do with our invisibility?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, we didn't need the invisibility booster that time," Harry stated.

"Then why are we talking about it? This is a waste of time," Draco exclaimed.

"You brought it up," Harry stated absentmindedly.

His attention was focused on Elle, who had retaken her seat beside him and was watching the manor they were re-approaching with a look of sheer terror gripping her face. She looked lost.

Inside, Elle was putting a conscious effort into calming herself. She shoved at the sordid memories that were assaulting her, trying to keep from reliving them. Elle could feel her body begin to shake as they drew level with the mansion again. From the window they could see Voldemort on the lawn surrounded by his followers, all of whom seemed to be cowering and clambering over one another to stay out of the raging wizard's line of sight. From even as far up as they were she could hear his earsplitting voice; it flowed over her like scalding water, terrorizing her whole body, until she had to bite down on her bottom lip to save herself from shattering into cries. She clamped her hands over her ears, her fingernails tearing at the dull red hair that hung limply around her face. Her body convulsed forward of its own violation, seeking to make her as small as possible.

She could feel herself being pulled into someone else, a solid body hers recognized instinctually. Slowly she became aware of Harry speaking to her very quietly, though his words were jumbled in her panic stricken mind.

Elle clutched at her older brother, as he grasped her to him tightly. He began to sway their bodies back and forth slowly, keeping his rhythm steady with whatever he was murmuring to her.

"We're almost over," she finally heard him say. "Just a little bit longer and you'll never have to see it again. I promise."

Elle nodded her head erratically, letting him know that she could now at least hear him again and comprehend what he was saying.

He never once told her it was okay, or that is was going to be okay. She knew it wasn't conscious, he always told her that when she cried. When she was four and Dudley punched her in the face so hard her nose broke Harry told her it was okay, that one day she'd be more powerful than him and he'd never be able to hurt her again. In primary school when other girls bullied her for wearing Dudley and Harry's hand-me-down clothes he just told her it was going to be alright because she was smarter than them, and one day he'd buy her all the clothes she ever wanted. At ten-years-old when Harry had received his Hogwarts letter and it was explained to her that she had to wait a whole year alone with the Dursley's before she would get hers and be able to go with him she had cried, kicked and screamed until he hugged her and told her everything was going to be fine, because he was only going first to make sure it was a better place than the Dursley's; to make sure that she would be safe if she went, and if there were people there that would finally want to be her friend. He'd said it was okay, because he was her big brother, and those were things that just needed to be done before she went off to strange places.

All of their lives he had told her she would be okay, that she was strong, she was smart, she was beautiful; always he reassured her everything was okay. He always put her first, to protect her, and to make sure someone loved her. He'd given up so much for her, he'd always been there, and he'd never lied to her. But now, he knew, and she knew he understood, it wasn't okay. He knew it might never be okay, and so he didn't say it. Harry never lied to her, he would have given her anything to help; but subconsciously they both understood Elle wasn't going to just bounce back from this like she had everything else they'd been through.

So the older brother who would have willing given his life for her, who wished he could have taken her place, just pleaded, "Just hold on Ellvi, just a little bit longer. Just keep holding on. Don't give up now, we're not done yet. Hold on, and I promise I'll hold on for you."

Elle recognized that he wasn't just talking about passing Malfoy Manor. He was talking about the rest of the war. Harry was begging her not to die; not to give up because that would mean her death for sure.

Straitening up, Elle did her best to collect herself. She brushed fallen tears from her face, tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe the grime she found caked to her hand onto the Slytherin jersey she wore, and took her brother's hand. She held on to him tightly and resumed endeavoring to help out her friends. Though memories assaulted her constantly she fought them as well as she could, forcing them into the background; creating a static she might have to endure for the rest of her life, a static she was sure wasn't complete.

They flew in a silence that was broken by only Luna's periodic repetition of, "Oooh, are we there yet?" To which only Harry could reply good-naturedly that, no they were not. Elle would smile slightly each time Luna would ask, and look over at Draco who would raise his hand to his head and rub his temples roughly while shaking his head.

Hours passed, and the sun came and went, and the weary passengers of the flying Ford Anglia finally found themselves cloaked in darkness once again. The night was overcast and frigid, and not long after sunset did Elle find herself in the middle of the most awkward predicament she could have ever dreamt of.

"Are we nearly there yet?" Draco snapped, his breath crystalizing the moment it left him.

"Shut up," Ron responded, his knuckles white as he leaned forward, peering through the frosted windshield, into the foggy night.

"Do you have a problem Weasel?" Draco drawled, sliding closer to Elle, who was staring blankly ahead of her, wishing for nothing more than the opportunity to toss one or the other out of the car.

The two had been bickering for the past several hours—Ron was hungry and Draco was cold. Elle had attempted to defuse the situation, but she was pretty sure they hadn't been able to hear her over their own egos; so she had given up, dropped her head onto Harry's shoulder and was now putting an effort into trying to think of only positive things. It wasn't going well—unless you really wanted to count the ninety-eight ways she had come up with to explain away the mysterious absence of Ron to Mrs. Weasley (she figured no one would really ask about Draco).

"Would you two please be quite, for the love of Merlin," Harry sighed, half resigned to the thought that he, like Elle, wouldn't be heard.

"You know what Potter, why don't you try flying along in a car full of reasonably clothed people, and being the only one without a shirt on? It's fucking freezing, and your little sidekick over there is following all of those ridiculous Muggle regulations they put on flying cars! We should have been there hours ago!" Draco ranted.

"Muggles don't have regulations for flying cars," Elle muttered, deadpan. "Muggle cars don't fly. This is entirely impossible for Muggles."

"Maybe it's because you've got us lost!" Ron yelled back at the shivering teen.

"I haven't! You fly this car about as well as you fly a broom Weasel," Draco retorted nastily.

"You're still a complete prick Malfoy, you're probably still You-Know-Who's favorite little errand boy, just going along with us to be an annoying waste of space!" Ron grunted through clenched teeth.

"That was very witty Weasel; did Potter help you with that before you set out on this poorly conceived rescue mission?" Draco retorted.

"Leave me out of this," Elle murmured, adding 'he was eaten by a flock of crazed banshees' as number ninety-nine on her list. Harry nodded along with her.

"You know what Malfoy, why don't you just jump out of the car right now and save us all the effort we have to put into dealing with you. That way Elle can go about her life like a normal Gryffindor and be with someone who's not such a coward," Ron jabbed.

"That wasn't very nice," Elle whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

"Yeah, mate, just calm down. We've got to be getting close," Harry said, his eyes glaring at Ron as he tried to motion inconspicuously to Elle.

"We should probably veer a bit to the north now," Draco muttered, sounding properly chastised. His eyes were searching the small amount of Elle's face that he could see through her hair.

"Sure," Ron responded in a similar tone. "If you keep your mouth closed I'll lend you my jacket until we get there."

Seven incredulous heads swung in Ron's direction, eyes flickering back and forth from him to Draco.

"Fine, it's a deal," Draco accepted, taking the jacket that Ron preceded to give him.

Elle watched as Draco pulled the home-made coat on and tried to zip it up. A giggle left her as Harry's stifled laugh jostled her. Stitched onto the front on the jacket were the initials 'R.B.W.' in a dull golden color, the rest of it was a striking scarlet. It was obviously a Gryffindor's, and even more obviously a Weasley's. The arms and torso of the garment were several inches too long, but the actual size might have been almost two too small for Draco, who was broader and more muscled than Ron.

"Shut up, Potter," Draco griped, staring down at himself with a grimace. "The both of you."

Elle and Harry both let out a few more undignified chuckles before being able to calm down. Luckily for Draco, those in the back couldn't quite make out what he looked like.

Another hour or two passed with still no sign of the castle appearing before the exhausted teens. The only sound filtering through the night was the clanking and chugging of the run down car.

"It's 'bout dinner time, I reckon," Ron muttered, the sound of his stomach punctuating his sentence.

"It can't be much further," Draco asserted, still sounding slightly defensive of his navigational skills.

Through the frosted window shield Elle watched as the blurred masses of clouds slipped around them, each adding more moisture to the car that was frozen over seconds later by the chill. Goose pimples rose on her bare legs; whether they were from the cold, or the warm hand Draco had just placed on her thigh she wasn't sure.

"There are a bunch of nargles gathering up ahead," Luna stated, pushing up the strange glasses she had been wearing the majority of the trip. "I think it's the school."

"Maybe we should dip down to see?" Elle wondered. She leaned forward, squinting her eyes, trying to see the glowing lights she knew would be present if it was indeed the castle they were approaching.

"What the bloody hell is a nargle?" Draco questioned.

"Don't worry about it," Neville advised from the backseat, distracting Luna so as to avoid the explanation and conversation from happening.

Draco turned to Elle with a questioning look, but she just shook her head and took the glasses Luna was offering her from the back. Putting them on, she didn't notice any difference in the scenery ahead of her; though she never did when Luna tried to teach her how to use them. Elle didn't think her friend was insane, like most did; she believed that Luna had a peculiar talent. She was also adamant that someday it would come in handy.

* * *

**You all have every reason in the world to hate my guts. I would if I was you. I'm not going to put any long explanation about my absence here because I know some probably just don't care. But I am still writing. This is called Intermission because I hate it. It's short and horrible. I'll do better. =( If you want to talk to me you can review, pm, or if you'd like a more reliable way of communication come see me at my tumblr chandelier-knight . tumblr . com and harass me to write or just chat or if you want to know where the hell I've been. **


	18. Like a Phoenix

Several slow seconds slipped past as Elle peered through the windshield, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks being created by the calloused hand running its fingertips along her thigh. Just as she was considering whether to pinch Draco for being so forward in front of her brother, Harry jolted forward, completely oblivious to the hand he definitely would have felt was wondering too high up his sister's leg, and pointed to the glowing clouds some feet below them.

"Is that the castle?" he asked, squinting thought his glasses.

"It's too close," Draco intoned, his hand now still. "We would notice the castle from further off. Wouldn't we?"

Before anyone had time to ponder the glowing that was now blindingly close to them the car came to a sudden halt, stopped by some unseen barrier. There were several seconds of silence where the teens tried to right themselves from the effects of the jostling, followed by an excruciatingly loud shrieking noise. Elle felt the car being thrust away from whatever they had crashed into, a scream ripped from her throat as she was flung into Draco's lap, against the door. Harry slammed into Elle just as the car wheeled wildly about and revved its engine.

"Don't Ron!" Hermione yelled from the backseat, where she was trying to pull herself from the floorboards.

"I'm not doing anything! It's out of control," Ron shouted back twisting and turning the wheel and stomping furiously at the brake pedal.

"Shit," Draco barked, grabbing ahold of Elle to keep her from slamming about anymore.

Elle screwed her eyes shut as they flew backwards in their seats from the car's gathered speed. Draco's arm around Elle and the one he was using to hold on to the back of the seat kept Elle and Draco from crashing through the windshield of the Ford as it crashed into the invisible barrier once again. This time there was no shriek and no force that repelled the car. It maintained its force against whatever was in its way, and almost instantaneously a loud ripping sound accompanied the car as it lurched forward.

Suddenly appearing in front of them were the four glass paneled windows of the Great Hall, the ones typically behind the professors' table which were adorned each with one of the house's emblems.

"BRAKE!" Harry ordered, as the car careened out of control towards the windows.

Ron smashed his foot onto the pedal as hard as he could, but it did nothing to stop the car's forward momentum. Within seconds the car full of teens was blowing through the stain glass windows as if they were nothing, all of them loosing horrible screams as the car tilted downwards, the flight stick broken off by Harry's knee banging into it.

Elle's eyes were still closed as she felt the front end of the car make impact with the floor of the hall. Opening them once the back end smashed to the ground, she made eye contact with Harry as the doors of the car were flung open and all eight teens were propelled out to land roughly on the marbled floor, Elle still clutched tightly to Draco's chest.

The hall was lit brightly, forcing Elle to quint while she attempted to gain her bearings. Draco was groaning beneath her, bruised from his impact with the floor and winded from Elle's impact into his chest. Several slow moments passed eerily quietly in the hall as the scattered teens sat stunned on the floor, and the occupants of the five long tables in the room gazed dumbstruck at the scene in the middle of the room.

The first sound to be made was the slamming of the Ford's doors just before it revved back to life and squealed out through the two sets of large double exits that stood between it and it's reunion with the Forbidden Forest.

Startled by the abrupt motions of the car the hall erupted into noise all at once. Students were yelling, pointing and running towards the group still immobile on the floor. The ensuing chaos was overwhelming; shouts of Elle's name, hands grappling at her were suddenly terrifying.

She clasped her head, aching from the surprising onslaught of all the commotion, in one hand, and used the other to hold onto Draco's, where it was clamped, almost painfully, on her waist.

"I can't breathe," she gasped. Panic was constricting her as she felt Draco's hold on her lessen.

"We're safe," Draco began before Elle was wrenched from his arms and he was hauled to his feet.

Elle screeched as her body lost contact with Draco, her mind seeming to short wire. All her thoughts ceased as the terror stuck her, sucking the air from her lungs and forcing her blood to rush though her almost too fast for her body to handle.

"Don't!" she heard someone yell. She couldn't recognize the voice.

The room around her was nothing more than a hazy sea of black masses moving towards her, and then being forced back, only to repeat the pattern endlessly. She registered the new hands wrap around her upper body; felt them tugging her away from Draco. The touch was familiar; she knew she should have known who was near her—just as she should have known who the voice that yelled belonged to.

But the world was too dark, and the voice was too far, and the hands too close. And neither were Draco, and in that moment that was all that she knew.

"Let go!" she cried, jerking within the grasp of whomever it was that held her. Their grip tightened.

"Miss Potter?" they questioned, standing right behind her. She could feel the air they exhaled wisp the loose tendrils of her hair. They were much too close.

Finally her eyes focused, and she was able to find Draco amongst the crowd. He wasn't as far as she thought, but still was being held some fifteen feet from her; behind him stood Slughorn, his wand at Draco's temple. He was sill, his silver eyes glued to Elle as she heaved, trying to fill her body with enough oxygen.

Elle could see Slughorn's mouth moving, and sensed that he was speaking to the person who was restraining her. Her mind was still reeling, unable to process what her ears were picking up.

From her right she heard her name, and turned to find Harry talking to her. She shook her head, angry that she still couldn't understand. All she knew what that Harry wasn't helping Draco. She knew that that wand had no right to be so close to his head.

"Are you sure?" she finally understood the voice behind her as it addressed Harry. It was McGonagall.

Elle stilled, unsure why the head of her house would be restraining her in such a way. She felt McGonagall's hold on her slack as she stopped. As soon as the older witch had given her enough leeway Elle flew forward, pushing McGonagall in the opposite direction. Stumbling from the force of her own actions Elle twirled around unsteadily and saw the shocked look on her elder's face.

McGonagall stood with her wand in her right hand, both hands facing out and away from Elle. Behind her Elle could see Mrs. Weasley being held back by Mr. Weasley, tears streaming down her face. To their left was Lupin, ragged and worn, his face twisted with worry. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were huddled to Elle's right, immobilized by the stern looking Kingsley Shacklebolt.

It took Elle only seconds to take all this in and dismiss it, unconcerned with why the Oder would have been at Hogwarts. Whipping around, her mind still foggy, she drew her wand and faced Draco and Slughorn. Steadily she leveled her wand until it ran directly parallel with the potion professor's forehead.

She heard several gasps and murmurs come from the gathered students that stood, forming a circular perimeter around the activities happening at their center. They were dismissed just as easily as the calls of her name she heard coming from her friends.

"This is why," she heard the deep, constant voice of Shacklebolt intone; "She is unstable. And he cannot be trusted. We must subdue them before anyone gets hurt."

"Elle isn't going to hurt anyone," she heard Harry protest. "You scared her. Just let go of Draco and she'll be fine."

"Harry, surely you understand we cannot simply 'let go' of a known Death Eater," Tonks' voice entered the conversation, presumably from somewhere near Lupin.

"He isn't really a Death Eater," Luna explained, her voice light and airy as if it was obvious and she had not a care in the world.

"The mark is quite plain to see on his arm," Shaklebolt sighed, probably disliking arguing with a group of stubborn teenagers.

Elle's head snapped to the dark skinned man, her eyes blazing molten, the golden hew normally hidden at their rims seeping down towards her pupils. She brought her left arm up, in a slow deliberate motion, her eyes flashed as she flicked her hand and Shaklebolt feel to his knees his wand now in Elle's outstretched hand.

She moved slowly, her eyes almost entirely golden now, until they locked onto Draco's contrasting silver ones.

"Let him go," she demanded. Her voice was low, she did nothing to make it sound bigger, rougher, or more commanding. It was even, calm almost. Her wand never wavered as Slughorn looked to the other adult Order members in the room.

"Don't!" Shacklebolt urged, clambering back to his feet. Elle's hand tightened on his wand, and her eyes narrowed, though they never strayed from Draco's.

"Release him," she repeated, sounding no more ruffled than if someone had asked her what day it was.

No one moved. Shacklebolt was locked in what seemed to be some silent debate with Lupin, and no one spoke. Elle's mind was still swirling, she couldn't focus on anything but the fact that that wand was _still_ pressed against Draco's temple and she wanted it _gone_.

After several moments of uneasy silence Elle's anger began to boil. No one was listening to her. And that wand hadn't moved. Slughorn even had his other arm wrapped around Draco's neck to detain him.

Within seconds her rage was billowing, and she felt her hair whip around her. Shaklebolt's wand was torn from her clenched fist, unable to coincide with the magic brewing within her. She paid it no mind. She had only one thought now, the rest of her mind was pitch black, unknown even to her.

Draco watched steadily as his worst fears began to be realized. She wasn't stable. He'd seen her eyes that color before. He'd watched as the emotions piled around her, concentrating into a physical manifestation of the magic that would leap, begging to be under Elle's command. She would be unstoppable; no one here would be able to match her if she wasn't brought back to her senses soon.

"You should really let me go," Draco snapped, his eyes on Elle, begging her to calm even just a bit. He was sure now, though, that she was paying very little attention to what was being said.

Around her swirled red and gold tendrils, glittering and shimmering around her; dancing with delight as they formed around Elle. She hadn't been this mad last time, Draco knew. Last time he had had but a glimpse of the silhouette of Elle's magic. He could see it distinctly now, as it surrounded her, coating her in pure magical power. Wings of all the colors of fire spread from her back. As her rage continued to build they fluttered, a warning or a promise.

"Let him go!" Lupin finally ordered. Elle blinked, her eyes shifting slightly in the direction of his voice. In an instant they were back on Draco.

"Let him go!" Elle repeated. But it wasn't the same voice as before. She sounded like a songbird, musical and supremacy. Draco knew it was no longer a request but a demand.

The hall was silent. Shacklebolt said nothing, his eyes wide as he gazed at Elle. The students were doing their utmost to get as far away as they could while still having a good view.

Elle stepped forward. Draco could feel Slughorn loosening his grip, his wand trembling against his head. The next thing Draco knew Slughorn was tripping over himself in his haste to get away from Elle.

Elle's eyes didn't move from Draco as he moved towards her. Her wand lowered, and dropped from her hand, but her eyes stayed on him the whole time, growing greener with each step he took in her direction.

"I'm okay, Elle. They weren't going to hurt me," Draco whispered, though his voice still carried throughout the hall.

As soon as the words left his mouth the remaining magic vanished and Elle fell unconscious into Draco's arms.

* * *

**Alright, so I know this is short again, and I'm sorry. But this is just how things are flowing for me at the moment. I hope you all like it and stick with me though. I'm currently on spring break, so hopefully I'll find some productive energy with this story. =) **


	19. Leaving Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: Everyone knows who owns _Harry Potter_**

* * *

Draco caught Elle and pulled her quickly up into his arms, cradling her securely into his chest. He kneeled down to grab her wand from the floor before turning to Harry, unsure what to do with the situation. The look on Harry's face is what finally alerted Draco to the state of the rest of the room.

It was more silent than death; still, as if frozen. And all eyes were glued to Draco, and the slight girl in his arms. Even Harry—all of Elle's friends and family, looked on as if they were meeting this sight for the first time. Not the sight of Elle with Draco, with a Death Eater, with the enemy. But the sight of Elle.

He could see it in their eyes. Elle still emblazoned, alive with magic; a magic none had ever witnessed. Some of them had seen hints of it, like Harry. Some had nearly figured it out on their own, like Hermione and Lupin. But they had never witnessed the pure scale of undiluted power that Elle had at her fingertips.

And that's when Draco knew that he may be the only person alive, other than the shivering body in his arms, who knew of the prophecy told of Elle Potter. The Order of the Phoenix had been totally left in the dark as to what they should do if their leader perished—as he ultimately had. And now they were aware of that fact; and they were reeling, coming to terms with this new thought—the thought that Dumbledore had not left them to fight alone.

They were seeing that he had been focused on their goal for longer than any of them knew, and he had known, somehow, that he would not be there with them. He had known that in the end they would need someone to lead them into battle in his place, and he had known who it should be. He had been building them a weapon the likes of which had never been seen before. He had created in this fragile teen girl, and her older brother, their path to victory.

Suddenly Draco was very aware of this fact, though he had known it for quite some time. Elle would be the one to face the Dark Lord alongside her brother. Not behind him, helping him follow through on his own orders from Dumbledore, but beside him, carefully following her own.

His arms tightened around Elle viciously, fueled by some instinctual need to protect her from a battle that he should know he had no way of protecting her from; from a battle she was born to fight—but not a battle she was born to win. Not even all the forces in the universe could align seamlessly enough to guarantee triumph here.

Draco was terrified. And it was that terror that was being reflected back at him from The Order members; the people that loved Elle just as he did, those who were even in that very instant preparing themselves for a fight to the death. A fight for Elle and a fight for Harry. This fight was synonymous with the fight that they would be enduring for themselves. But this, Draco could see, was giving them a new strength. He watched Lupin's eyes narrow, he saw McGonagall's chin rise, and he watched her friends set their shoulders, moving closer to Harry—closer to Elle.

The thought didn't give Draco any strength however. He felt as though it was draining out of him, pouring into the girl he clutched to his chest.

The next thing he knew the doors to the Great Hall were being slammed open, and he and Elle were toppling to the floor, covered by an onslaught of Order members. He heard Elle scream; his name, then Harry's. She was frantic, pulled into consciousness before she was ready, before she was stable. Amid the chaos of the bodies flailing around him, grasping at him, and at Elle still tight in his embrace, he caught sight of Harry frantically pushing through the mass of people surrounding them.

Draco could hear calls of the words, "Retreat! Run!" being called from different directions. All from Order members trying to get a hold on what was going on.

"Voldemort!" Harry screamed over the cacophony of voices as he reached Draco and Elle, their whole gang with him. They had somehow, through years of practice Draco normally would have scoffed at and called 'harebrained schemes', managed to stay together through the madness.

"What?" Draco yelled, Elle shuddering brutally against him.

"He's here! He got in!" Ron moaned loudly.

Abruptly Draco could feel himself being pulled out of the center of the room, the rest of the Order clustered around him. Wands were waving quicker than he had thought possible, and the calls of spells were not doing nearly a good enough job at drowning out the sound of the students' screams. Draco had to drop to his knees once they finally came to a halt, no longer able to retreat any further inside the Hall, as Elle's shrieks joined those of the others. She looked at him almost, blindly. She looked mad and Draco could feel her body vibrating, shaking so hard he could barely keep her within her arms.

He lost all coherent thought as the floor beneath them began to quake, a crack appearing right below his feet. He lurched out with his arm, grabbing Lupin and yanking him down to his own level. He was sure his face looked somewhere between livid and horrified, as Lupin's face morphed into a mirror of his own when he noticed Elle's face, now frozen in a silent shriek of anguish, unimaginable to either of the wizards hovering over her.

Her hand was clenched into the nape of Draco's neck, furrows being left in the wake of her nails, the blood streaming openly down his back, mixing with the wound inflicted by his father.

"What's happening to her?" Lupin demanded, reaching out and shaking Draco.

"I don't fucking know," Draco cursed, shoving Lupin away from him. It was taking everything he had to keep Elle up against him, and even more to keep from ripping her hand off the back of his neck, where he thinks her nails had come into contact with the top of his spinal cord, shredding the flesh away from it.

"We have to get her out of here," Lupin states, it's almost a question he's deferring to Draco in hopes that the child knows of some way to save what looks like a dying girl.

"Obviously!" Draco sneers.

"But the fight," Lupin looks around, noting it is not leaning towards their favor. "We cannot abandon Hogwarts to Him."

"We can! And we will!" Draco shouts, pulling a ducking Harry into their circle.

Harry's face pales, before he drops completely to his knees reaching out for his sister. The only sound he makes is something close to a pained gurgling.

"Don't!" Draco hisses, painfully aware that his grip on Elle, and her's on him, are the only things keeping Elle safely anchored in their world.

"She's dying!" Harry screams in his face, blood flying from his mouth.

"Not if we get her out of here," Draco screams back.

Everyone around them is beginning to take note of the trio of men clustered close around Elle, unmoving in the center of their group. They're slowing down, looks of horror creeping onto their faces as they notice Elle's silent plight, or as they see the gashes and blood falling from the hand she has entrenched into Draco's neck.

"Hogwarts," Harry whispers. The only reason the other two men know what he said is because they had been watching him intently.

"Leave it!" Draco demands.

"We can't just leave it!" Harry shouts, watching the fighting going on around them.

"Then she'll die!" Draco croaks.

It was the sound of his faltering voice and the look of terrified honesty from Draco that shook Harry to the core. Elle was dying. She was weak, and for some unknown reason the battle surging around them, the magic being evoked, was crushing her.

"Spread the word," Harry winces as he says it. "To the Burrow."

"Leave Hogwarts?" Lupin asks.

"Leave it," Harry nods.

The last thing Draco hears is Voldemort's voice echoing throughout the entire Hall saying, "Give me Hogwarts and none shall be harmed! Go! You are weak and you have lost! Give me Hogwarts and you shall live another day!"

Then Lupin's arms were around Draco and Elle and they were hurtling towards some place called 'The Burrow'. He didn't even have the time to wonder where they were going before he was smashing into the ground outside of a topsy-turvy dwelling he was sure, from its crazy, muddled, hectic appearance was the home of the Weasley clan.

As soon as he came to a halt, and the thudding of the rest of the bodies falling onto the ground had silenced Elle relaxed in his arms. Her face scrunched and tears immediately began to fall as she took in the sights around her. Her eyes were still clouded and wild as she looked from the house back to Draco and mumbled, "Thank you for getting me home."

Then she promptly fell limp and slipped into the safety of unconsciousness once more.


End file.
